


Peggy's journal

by Avitha



Category: Agent Carter (TV), Captain America (Movies), The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: F/M, M/M, Multi
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-19
Updated: 2018-04-19
Packaged: 2019-04-24 21:59:19
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 36,271
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14364564
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Avitha/pseuds/Avitha
Summary: Peggy Carter writes in her journal that her mother gave her and tells about her dates with the Captain. She learns about herself and shares her inner most thoughts. she finds out some life changing information





	Peggy's journal

**Author's Note:**

> I have been writing this for a few months, this is my first fic. that i have written and i hope you love it. there are some self harm innuendos, but nothing graphic, over all its an upbeat story with some laughs and real world problems. I underlined the scene where self harm is written so you can see where it is at and are able to skip over if you need and it is also warned right before it happens. I do not own any of these characters, though i modified them to my liking. Marvel is my religion and i worship Stan "the man" Lee as my one true savior.

trigger warning, nothing explicit, theres obvious hints of what happened. trigger warning content undelined.  
Small talk  
1949, August. A warm summer day, pleasant for walking and biking and maybe perhaps even a swim, should the urge arise and the harbor be less full of people than the streets of Brooklyn herself. Everything is always crowded here. I don’t much like making my personal life open to many, but seeing as I enjoy your company I shall share with you my daily routine, if of course, you are so inclined to peer into my pages.  
Like most good books, I am well read, my pages creased, my binding worn, and I am left open to those who are curious enough to read me. not always in my favor, but i have gotten quite used to it. Eventually my story will be put down, yes, but I do not fret, for I will be picked back up again by a wondering mind.  
My day always, always starts with a fresh brew of tea. A nice spice tea to warm me up on colder morns and a variety of herbal teas on more sunny days. Herbal enough to enjoy the sunrise yet not to earthy to relax me back into my bed and under my covers where I peacefully dream fantasies that I must leave under the pillow as soon as the sun is drawn over the dewy grass each day. On rare occasion I will bring out my little scarlet book. It’s fairly small but it fits my writing cravings when they do surface, which isn’t as often as my mother probably would have liked when she gifted it to me. Nothing has changed. When I was just a little thing my mum would encourage me to write and my excuses are all the same then as they are now. "I cannot write now, I’m tuned in this book!" "But mum the weather is perfect for a walk, I have no time to write on a day like this!" "Yes, mother I’m aware it’s raining! But the puddles are so big! I just have to jump in them before the rain is dried!" After my morning wake up tea, I hobble to my drawers and pick out anything that catches my eyes. Today it’s a rosy sundress and a long sweater with half sleeves. I grab my clothes and drag my bum to the washroom where I will spend 90% of the time leaning against the tile and soaking up the warmth of my pressured water and the other 10% will be spent washing up and shaving so I can wear the sundress that I will most likely get annoyed with by noon today. I get out of the shower and I let my hair dry. As its drying I put on the death trap pantyhose and get dressed. I find a pair of black pumps with silver clasps that will compliment my dress and I go to the mirror in my bedroom and plop myself infront of it to finish my curls and do my make-up, which isn’t much make-up at all.  
Today I’ve got a business date with Captain Rogers. We seldom do get around to discussing business like planned. We keep on rescheduling in hopes of discussing the business that brought us on the date. So far, I think it's working well. We’ve had four dates prior to today, and not once have we discussed the SSR. I like our set up. Today is a beautiful day. And the most beautiful thing about this day is that it’s a Saturday, so no work...as much as I love answering phones and waiting on pig headed men until the howling commandos need me. So far, I, regretably have woken up at 04:45, had my tea and enjoyed the morning. Gotten showered and dressed. I’ve done my hair. It took no more than 20 minutes. And now it is about 05: 10. Our date is at 08:00 and we are meeting at a little place called 'Rosie’s' down the street from the SRR. I’ll be on time...Steve will be late like always. I'll order their famous bear claw and a cup of mint tea, Steve will say he's fine and then order water later and it will all be so polite. It is always only polite. He'll make me blush and I'll leave to go "powder my nose" or "freshen up" and he will sit and wonder if I’m coming back from the bathrooms like I always do and we will never get around to discussing the SSR.  
By 06:30 I’ll sit on the porch and listen to the radio show (until I have peaked my aggravation with Betty Carvor) and I will enjoy a small pot of tea. I’ll get up and do a few things around the house. Feed the stray cat, and change his kitty litter...I named him Loki. He is black with blue eyes and loves our neighbors’ horses. His name really is fitting, he loves to get into things andeat my plants. I do the few dishes and I pull something out for super. I vacuum and I sweep the kitchen. Finally, I go into my room and make my bed and put away my clothes, not really they'll lay there until tonight when I either sleep on them or shove them off of the comforter to be washed again. 07:30 it’s time to go meet up with Steve. I leave and wave down a passing cabby and now I’m on my way.  
In this black cab, I pull out lipstick to brighten mine and perfume that is running low, I’ve had it a few months now. I spritz it on me. Enough to make Steve wonder what it is but not enough to make the poor guy go into an asthma attack. I pull a silver charm bracelet from the bottom of my bag that never ends and I slip it on my right wrist. It was a Christmas present from Steve and Bucky. It goes with most of my wardrobe.  
The cab pulls up in front of the cafe and my heart starts to race. My face is blushing. I can feel it but not to worry... Steve’s probably late, therefore it will scurry off my cheeks before he even arrives. I go in and sit down. It’s 08:06 and I walk up to the bar. I set my purse on the counter next to me...and I wait. And I wait and I wait longer. Oh, I almost forgot...I’ve got to plan out what I’m wearing tonight. James and I are going on a business date as well...to the theater! Neither of us have discussed our on-going relationship… friendship with Steve. We don’t really talk about business either on our dates, nor do we discuss much about home life either. In-fact the main topic of choice is none other than the little fiery blond from Brooklyn himself. It's 08:35 wher- oh, and there it is! The roaring sound of Steve’s motorcycle, that he is now big enough to ride. The engine stops. 08:32 "Hey...I’m-a I’m sorry I’m late-" he said, Softly with a hand on my shoulder. My heart skips a beat. My back still turned. "I uh... I got you some flowers..." He bites his lip. I don’t have to see it to know that he bit his lip. He always...bites his lips. He sets them down next to me. I glance over to see what kind of flowers he is gifting me with this time. My favorite, like always. Carnations, the flower of choice when roses are too Cliche. He knows me well. I swing around in the chair more amused by the chair than I should have been... "It’s alright Rogers... I haven’t been waiting long" "You sure... ‘cuz it’s kinda late..." "I’m sure, Steve." He sits next to me and it’s all polite talk. I get ready to order. Before I could open my mouth, Steve has decided what he wants and he opens his mouth to speak. Kinda rude but what can you do. He makes up for it and more. "Yeah she'll have 2 of your bear claws and a cup of your minty tea stuff. I’ll take a water please." All said with a smile. That was sweet of him. He enunciated well and he didn’t stammer. He has gotten bolder. I blame that on James. It’s all James’ fault, he is ruining our shy little Steve. Oh god. I’m blushing. Why am I blushing. My face is turning red as I try and evaluate my surroundings, there’s something making me blush though I can’t figure it out. I'm fairly good at keeping my composure around Steve. My body knows my surroundings better than I do. All Steve did was sit down next to me. I can feel the blush in my stomach. I contemplated going to go powder my nose like you and I discussed but it’s too early in the date... My hand has already moved towards my purse on the desk. It was a mistake to reach. I grab my bag any ways, I’m already this far, and hang the fabric strap over the bar chair. It falls. I’m a klutz. I’m still blushing. To my surprise his hand is resting on my thigh. Comfortably might I add. He moved it and reaches for my bag like the sweetheart he is. He sets it on his lap and smiles. Dammit my bag of excuses has been kidnapped and held captive on his lap. Never have I ever been so jealous of an item such as my own purse. Dammit Peggy! Stop. This is enough of that type of thinking. I’m stuck. Blushing. There’s no way out. This is it. This is the end, this is how I die... What’s this...is he blushing? Of course, he is. Its slight. But it’s there. My theory is that he was born with a blush. Either that...or too much time around Bucky made it permanent. Maybe a bit of both. His mother Sarah is the one who gave him that gene, Bucky simply preserved the trait.  
The business date soon ends. Nothing too exciting, it was all so quaint. He roars off on the ‘lady-catchin’ machine” as James puts it oh so elegantly. I decide to walk home which by the way, was a bad idea. My nylons ran from my inner thigh down to the front of my ankle. It was my last pair. He offered me a ride and regrettably I had to declined. Me in a dress on a motorcycle was just not the best idea in the world. Had I been with Bucky he would have told me to get over it and get on, but I was not with Bucky thankfully. Not yet anyways. We part ways and I watch him ride off. His unbutton coat flies back as he rides against the wind. He revs his engine as he turnes the corner.  
later that night  
8:00 pm, the play will start in one hour, James is on his way and I am not yet ready. I showered, but I am still laying on the mound of clothes on my bed, uprooting those fantasies from my pillow to my mind as my stray cat rests with me. I picked up a few extra pairs of pantyhose on the way home and I now have a pair on. That is all I have on. My bed is so comfortable and Lokitty is so inviting, his purr lures me in to pet him and grant him all my affection. This is the man that I could live with forever. He is gentle and kind and only needs to be fed two times a day. It's too purr-fect.  
There’s a small three taps on my bedroom door, dammit, I knew this was bound to happen. I spring up from my bed and as I do so I startle Lokitty from his rest. He pounces on the dresser next to my door in guard of his people. That's me, I'm his person. I grab the robe that is draped over my bed and I throw it on. I hear the knob jiggle. “just a minute!” I shout from my bed. James always has been bad about jiggling knobs at the most inopportune times. I reach for the knob but it is already opening. I hold the door open barely ajar. James shining eyes stare at me in my partially opened robe that I frantically close after realization. “I said just a minute Mr. impatient.” I go to close the door but it is stopped abruptly by his brown, heavily worn yet lightly scuffed, leather shoe, they're the best he has. “Damn! I was too late.” He said devilishly, I don’t blush like I would with Steve because, well, this is Bucky’s personality. It’s what’s to be expected. I finish dressing myself and by 8:20 I’m completely ready to walk out the door.  
James is nothing more than a recurring date. I have no belief that it will go farther than that, because James and I share a common interest, and unlike most common interests, ours is Steve and he will always come first for both of us. James and I are fairly open with one another and after a dozen or so dates he finally trusted me enough with his and Steve’s shared secret. I had to sort of pry it out of him. I have always suspected something of the sort with them. They’re a bit too close to be “only friends”, even if they claimed to be best friends, it still doesn’t cover completely how they see one another. One can go to a market and look out into the sea of people and pick two people out and have absolute knowledge that those two are wed, or at least in some sort of relationship, and in that same way is the way that I’ve always seen them. Sure, at first, I did question it. It’s not every day that you meet a couple of the same sex, but after a while of getting to know them, I become more and more sure of my prediction. Not to even mention the way James lifts Steve up in words and the way Steve’s portraits of James have been captured by page after page in his sketchpads, or the crinkle in James’ eyes that is only brought on by the slightest mention of Steve’s name. Not even I, in my deepest love and affection for Steve could ever recreate the smile that is painted on James’ face when he sits like an adder, captivated by his Steve intensely drawing on the shaggy rug that is sloppily placed beneath the windowsill. The winowsill that is illuminated by the moonlight and stalks between the cracks within the curtains. Don’t get me wrong, I love Steve. I love him with all my heart and I’d gladly wake up to his sweet smile every single day of every single year for the rest of my life. I would gladly wake up and attempt to make banana pancakes for him, though I fail at it every time. I just can’t seem to ever get them right, but I’d try anyways. And I would make sure there was enough for James too, because I know he would be there every day.  
After I am ready I open the door to find James, still standing there. I am wearing my little red dress that goes down to my knees and my sexy black heals to match. My hair cascades down in its curls. I am still wearing my silver bracelet that the boys both chipped in to get. Like I said, it goes with every outfit. James looks ravishing, like always. Hair slicked back with a single strand that has been declared a traitor, due to it never staying where it was placed. I have dubbed that strand " little Bucky," as I am sure I do not have to explain. He is wearing a white shirt that is being hidden by a black dress coat. His sleeves are half way up and he is well washed, surprisingly. He always has some sort of grease on him. He is wearing black loafers (shoes) and pinstriped pants. The top button on his dress shirt is undone and he isn’t wearing a tie. He is wearing a little silver band on his right hand. Now, the significance of that little ring is that it’s a wedding band, from Steve, shhh. He wears it on his right hand so it will not be questioned. He is not ashamed of it, but it’s under Steve’s request. Steve says that he “would have to go bail Buck outta a fight with some looser who can’t stand two men kissing.”  
“I’m ready,” I say as I step through my door. Lokitty rushes passed my legs to avoid getting locked in. “bout damn time,” he says with a side smile. It’s not just any side smile, it’s James’ side smile. Steve bites his lips and James does his side smile. He offers his arm and I take it. I grab my purse on the way out and I lock the door. As we stand on the froont porch ready to, I start to walk. James catches my hand and pulls me into him, not letting me go any farther. He holds both hands on my hip bones and grinds me into him and kisses me. It was nice. "Hey Peg? You look nice." He sais charmingly then he holds my hand and drags me along. I could feel that blush again, it's not often that I do blush, especially not for his type. I like my men kind and sweet and Steve.  
He decides that waking to the theater is the best possible option, I hate him. We walk east, side by side. He is on the left, and I on the right. It’s a Saturday night, so the streets are flooded with people having a good time. James walks with a pep in his step. He glides so smoothly down the sidewalk. Damn, I love to watch him walk. The way he twists at his shoulders and the way his hips swing like he is in a constant dance. His body sways to a constant beat. It’s as if I can hear Frank in the background of him walking. His hands swing down, as do mine. His catches mine mid swing and holds it. “Stevie’s goin’ to an art show that just opened up, figured we could stop in and surprise ‘em. What do ya think pegs?” he brakes the silence. “Change of plans I suppose?”, I question a bit worried. “Nah, just a pit-stop. I promise.” He gives his damn cheesy smile. I know what will happen. We will stop in, see Steve, and he will tag along. We won’t go to the theater. We will most likely go to eat and then go back to their place, or mine if they’d like. And the entire night will then be made better by the company of our Steve. “Alright then, sounds like a plan.” I say knowingly.  
Down off Second street and the crossing of Brooklyn Ave. is a little white washed stone building. It’s small but cute. There’s two large windows that encompass the sides of the building. There is probably about eight to nine people inside. James slips in front of me and pulls the door open for me. I walk in and smile passed him. He walks up to my side and slides his arm underneath mine and across my lower back grabbing and holding my waist on the other side. With his other hand he runs his fingers through his dark brown hair and we start to walk, on step, to find Steve. There’s huge canvases of gorgeous paintings that lay across the walls of the art museum. In the center of the wall there is a blank canvas, kind of cliché. Bucky rolled his eyes at it and quickly dismisses it. We walk around and look at each individual painting. More people flood in through the doors. The last show must have just ended, the theater is only down the street. It must be getting close to nine o’clock. I look over at Bucky who has wondering eyes and I catch a glimpse of what has entrapped him seconds before a bunch of woman swarm in front of it. He lets go of my hand and walks to the painting as if it were a siren calling him. God, what could it be of? I thought to myself. I follow. He some-how manages to get to the front of the crowd of woman who are impressed by this one piece of art work. I shove my way passed the group of women who are standing in front of the canvas. I stand side by side with James and I now understand. The painting is stunning. The picture is black and white and various shades of such. It looked as if charcoal had been used. The man is sitting in a wooden chair, its stained a darker brown, the man’s back is to the viewer though the front of the chair, unseen is rested between his legs. Of his legs, only the thighs could really be viewed. He was sitting in the chair backwards, head calked sideways, enough to see the profile. There’s a medium size window on his left and a stove on his right. It looks like a small, shabby apartment. The man’s shirt is off and draped over what looks like a couch in the living room area in front of the window and there is a towel, thrown carelessly over his shoulder. The man’s hair is shoulder length and down with a slight wave to it. The stove has food on it and seems to be lit. There’s a cup of coffee on the counter next to the stove with steam coming up from it. He appears to have work pants on and his shoes are set next to him. I look in closer and I see the shirt, there’s a logo on it, it’s illegible. I look at the signature and sure enough, its Steve’s work. James is still dumbfounded. I nudge his shoulder. “I-I didn’t know Stevie was puttin’ this in here…”, he muttered. “Let’s go look for Steve”, I suggest. We look around and there are only a few people anywhere else in the building, Steve’s is the only piece on this level that is not still life or architecture. Steve is standing in front of the blank canvas. Bucky had to be dragged along. He keeps glancing back at his portrait, he had never seen it before. We approach Steve who is standing intensely in front of it. I don’t think he knew what was going on around him. He is standing in a thinking pose as he is in deep thought. “Hey kid”, Bucky says teasingly and slightly still in shock. Steve quickly snaps out of his art induced daze. “I ain’t a Fu-- Buck?! I thought you had a da-”, He realizes I am there “… Peggy…? Hello.”, He said shyly and softly. “Hello, my darling," I say in slight awkwardness, I do not think that either james or myslef completely thought this through. At my greeting Steve then began to blush and get flustered. He runs his hands through his blond hair and smiles nervously. I am not quite sure why he blushed, all I said was hello. “It’s a blank canvas…”, James said questioningly. “Yeah, I know. I’m still tryin to figure out what I'm ginna do to it.” I back away from them to give them some space. They hadn’t seen each other since maybe this morning, and well, I know how they get in front of others. To my knowledge Steve is unaware of my knowledge of their situation. I leave that to James. It’s his place to talk to him. After a few minutes of James’ arm draping over Steve’s, James approaches me shyly. “So, Peggs?” I smile. I know what’s coming next. “It’s 9:15, think that uh… maybe us three could go to a park or something’, skip the movie?” of course I don’t have a problem with it because I was well prepared for it. “That’s fine.” I say. He smiled, and in that small, tiny, moment I then realized that I really do love James. I love him. I love him with all I am, but dammit, he’s Steve’s, not mine. But dammit! I love them both! Just as much. Just as equal. James’ snake like personality, his sarcasm and humor and god, Steve’s sensitivity and the way he never backs down from a fight, and everything about the both of them is just, beautiful.  
Stevie walks up to where James and I are standing. “So, did you guys like my piece?” he says it with such joy and hope of approval (mainly from James). James and I were both speechless I guess, because neither of us could find any words to express the way we felt and we both stood there and nodded. James did his side smile and Steve bit his lip. I felt awkward, but what can you do? “It was good kid, I liked it.” He says charmingly but still a bit dumbfounded. “So, shall we?” James holds both arms out for Steve and me to hang off of. They have no shame holding hands in public, though it is frowned upon.  
It took about fifteen or so minutes to walk to the park. James leads us far into the orchard that towers in the back. In the middle of the park there is a little pond with ducks that fly in it on occasion. The place where Bucky takes us is next to is a small patch of the pond and it’s almost completely enclosed in greenery. “Sorry I didn’t bring food or anything, could have made it a picnic.” James says sincerely. I don’t even know what to say to that. Steve saves the silence, “That’s okay Buck, we’re alright. We can all just kind of hang out.” Dammit! I don’t know what to say to that either. They’re both so sweet sometimes. James and Steve stand across from each other and I am standing next to Steve. James out darts out like an owl at night, and Steve was the mouse. Steve is taken to the ground, I step back a foot or so back but that does not save me from the clutches of Steve. He pulls me down on top of them. I fall on James’ back and James on Steve’s abdomen. We lay there for a minute, all relaxed. I was a bit uncomfortable, well I was, until I laid my head on James’ back and I hear the most beautiful sound I had heard since my mother’s voice. His heartbeat. I rub my hand on his back, he’s so warm. I feel a cold hand rest on my thigh, where my dress had risen a bit. I know who’s hand it is right away. It’s Steve’s. There’s a slight squeeze, and a less slight blush to follow, from both of us. It all seemed so fast after that, and my dress has a slight rip in it by the end of everything from when it was being grabbed and pulled. We laid there in the light of the moon. Both Steve and I lay in the crooks of James’ arms and rested our heads on his chest. All of us desperate to catch our breaths. James kept his coat and shirt off and draped the jacket over Stevie and the shirt over me. My dress sits at my waist all bunched up. My pantyhose are shot and I’ve no idea where my left heal is, it was all, so, worth it but I dont know if it was right. it was most definately not proper!  
James’ apartment  
I am not sure what happened after, I blame that on the lack of sleep. I woke up and we were no longer in the park, but in James’ room, in the same position we were in when I drifted to sleep. Steve didn’t seem to remember what happened either, we obviously didn’t get taken downtown for public nudity, but some-how I didn’t end up at home with my stray kitty. My internal clock wakes me up at 04:45. I look over at the boys whose bodies are entangled like the strings on a rag doll. I cuddle back into James and wrapped my free arm over James’ stomach and hold Steve’s hand that is rested over James’ heart. When I wake up hours later than I should have I am alone in their room. My head is set on their pillow and I am wearing on of James’ red flannels. Ihough I am not disapointed, it certainly is not my nighty gown. It’s a bit big on me and it goes half way down my thighs and of course it’s unbutton, though I will credit that it was closed and wrapped around me. I stay still and listen in to see if anything juicy is going on. Nothing too incredibly juicy. I hear murmurs and giggling going on in the next room. It’s times like these that I am thankful for their small apartment. I can’t make out what James was saying but I could hear the deep, gruff voice James uses when he’s saying something blush worthy. Then silence. I think of getting up to check on them. Then seconds later… James grunts softly. I stay put. Moans shatter the silence of their apartment just gracefully enough to be heard if one is quiet enough to listen. I think I hear Steve’s moans breaking James', it’s too quiet to hear from their bed which is across the room and up against the wall. I throw the blanket off and I slip my feet down onto the chilled wooden floor. I tiptoe to the door and I get on all fours. I put my ear up to the crack at the bottom of the door and I listen in. I should'nt, but I do. The kitchen table is being banged into at a constant tempo. I move my hair from ear’s way to aid my hearing. James moans again, this time louder. A lot louder. Then it’s all over. Steve grants my ears one, last tiny squeak. I smell smoke, its makes me feel better to know that I am not the only one who fails at pancakes. I’ve learned the smell of burning pancakes by now. Though my morning of burnt pancakes is not usually caused the same way. I dash back to the bed and pretend to sleep with guilt painted over my face accompanied with my usual blush. Steve turnes the radio on, I know its Steve because James hates the damned radio show and the only reason that they own a radio is because Steve wanted one. He had begged for it and he did not give up until James brought one home after work. If I am correct James kept on saying no until he was able to afford one to gift to Steve. I look over to the door and there lays both of my black heals, James is my hero. The damned bed was cold by the time I reenter the covers. From the smoky filled apartment, giggles and laughter could be well heard, from both Steve and James. With broken laughter underneath the door, “**Dammit Bucky *** now what are we gonna feed to Peggs?” “Shit…well these are too far gone, run to Rosie’s? Pick up a few bear claws? I’ll make tea?” Awe they do love me. I am dreading being stuck in bed... although not the worst way to spend my morning, I can however think of better ways I could have spent my morning in James’ apartment but those are inappropriate and must be kept hush hush.  
Not more than half an hour later James walks into my- his room and displays to me tea and bear-claws. Remember now, I’m asleep. I roll over into James’ pillow that’s smells an awful lot like Steve. “Peggy, I got you some bear-claws…” no, it’s not tempting enough for asleep me to wake up. “I got tea too?” oh, well, now that’s tempting enough. “I’m awake.” I say quickly followed by Steve chiming in, “now that’s the Peggs I know and …” he gets softer in tempo, it’s inaudible, but I think he said he loved me so that’s nice. I climb out of James’ bed and he turns around to go into the kitchen, as James is walking towards the door Steve leaps onto James' back for a piggu back ride and James holds him up ad carries him to the kitchen with his back tilted slightly foward holding Stevs newly grown weight. I follow Steve's laughter into the kitchen where we all sit at the table. I can feel the elephant room, but I am the only one who sees it apparently, because I was asleep, and that is what they will continue to believe. My mind floods with curious thoughts of their happening. Like, am I sitting where they were this morning? What did James say to begin it all? Thoughts like these must be stopped, so I change the subject of my mind, these thoughts aren’t healthy. I realized in the moment of my bear-claw thoughts, that no one was talking, and no one was eating. Glances were being shared between Steve and James, I stared blankly at the steam rising from my tea cup. “So, uh…” I feel the need to fill the awkward silence though i dont know where to begin, nor do I believe that I relly should fill the silence. “How were your mornings?” I inquired softly. Steve choked himself into an asthma attack, and James blushed harder than I had ever seen even Steve blush… and Steve is Irish. Steve coughs through his answering, James finishes it for him. “Pretty okay, made some pancakes, but I guess we mixed up our recipe with yours, cuz uh… they failed.” Cold hearted bastard. That’s what’s James is. “Harsh, Bucky.” We scarf down what’s left of the giant bag of bear-claws and pastries and I sip down my tea and Steve sips James’ coffee. James acts offended once he realized that Stevie had stolen his liquid life, that he was paying no attention to anyways. He softly and playfully punches Steve’s shoulder and chuckles. The rest of the morning is relaxing.  
Home sweet Home  
I finally make it home, later than Loki the stray kitty would have liked. I feed him and wash the couch cushions. I water my dying plants and I shower. Knowing what they did on the kitchen table makes me question the rest of the furniture I touched whilst in their apartment, not that I’m too disappointed, though I do care about hygiene. Sunday morning is usually alright. I typically go out on my dates with James on Saturday nights, sometimes he stays the night at my place, if of course we want it to go that far and I’m usually pretty tired by Sunday morning. I have work at the SSR tomorrow so I’ll call Steve up on the tele and I'll debrief him for tomorrow, which I should have done on our brunch date and I will continue Sunday rest.  
Moday: I was well rested today though it didn't feel like I should have been. I had a restless night. I often get night frights and they keep me up late. My brother sais that they're visions of the future. I think that they're just dreams. Nothing too out of the ordinary has happened both in the tangible world and in my little dreamscape, so I'll just take them as irrational fears. I do have my fears and I am no where near the strength that I could be. I am tuff, and I can handle myself but no one is stong enough to hold the world on their soulders on their own, no matter how strong they are. Most days I believe that Steve can, but even he has his limits. James is too... preoccupied to hold the world on his shoulders. He focus' all of his attention on Steve's well being that e doesn't take care of himself like he should and he knows it. He is strong, maybe even stronger than I am, but his weakness is Steve and he focus' on his weakness every second of every minute, of ever day. I try not too focus on my flaws, I have a great deal of them and if I worried about everything that I didn't like about myself, then I'd be no were near where I am at. I don't know that Steve has too great of a weakness. All of his flaws are used as his strength. For example, he doesn't know when to quit fighting. He is far too stubborn to let things go. He must be at his peak of strength, but as long as he is working harder, he will never be at his peak, because he is constantly growing.  
Tuesday: Not much has happened today. I, again, did not get much sleep last night either. I have fallen asleep on the ohone three different times today, I have dumped Chief's coffee all over his lap, and I have been caught looking through Steve's SSR file this afternoon. Today is almost over and I am already about to collapse. I need a nap, that would be great. I can and will sleep anywhere. From food carts to under the desks my napping skills show no bounds.  
Wednesday: This not sleeping is driving me crazy. I have been drinking so much tea that my stash is almost depleated, and I had enough for months of tea time. Steve came by today after work and it was nice, he decided to spend the night but then Stark needed his help with some science work. Stark uses that as his monthly check up on the serum to see how it is working and making sure his vitals are alright. I went to bed a little early because I am exhausted and I couldn't sleep. I am going to die of sleep depravation. I tried soothing music, but It did't work. lokitty is gone, I don't know where he has ran off to, but I will continue to leave out food for him. I needed to go to the store soon, but I was just too tired, maybe I'll put it off a little bit. I don't think that I have it in me to go to those lengths to get food and nylons.  
Friday: Not much happened yesterday. It was pay do, so I did need to get my pay. I called a sick day so that I could sleep all day. Steve came by about 4:30 and he stayed for supper, which was nice because I didn't want to cook and wasn't going to. Last night I got a lot of sleep. I was out like a light with Steve wrapped around me. Not one nightmare accured. I had a pleasent time. That's all we did, we cuddled all night. He had no shirt on, so he was extra cuddly. I had my nightgown on and it is the most comfortable thing in the world, just saying. I went to work and that was all fine and dandy, Thompson retrieved his own coffee, shockingly. It was a pretty relaxed day. Nothing too noteable happend. Steve did kiss me though and that was really nice. He just sort of held the back of my neck and kissed all of his frusteration away. He got yelled at for something prior to that and wasn't all that happy. He just sort of kissed me and walked away. Stormed up and left. He didn't even blush, he just wanted a kiss.  
Ah well it is Saturday, and I have a date with Steve in a few hours. No one has made any comments about last week, nor do I wish for them too. I can’t forget what happened but I will admit it was a bit out of character for me. I don’t wish for it to happen again...well, not like it did. Loki the kitty had run off a few days, he is back now and he is currently eating his wet food. I needed to go to the store yesterday and I agreed to myself that I could put it off another day. I am now eating left overs because I am out of breakfast food. I need to go to the store. Steve and I are mixing it up a bit and we are going to take a walk around the pond a few times and maybe picnic. I am bringing bread to feed the ducks. James and I haven’t really talked much this week, and I think it’s because I made things awkward for them just by being there. I don’t even know when James and I will go out again, maybe I’ll ask about tomorrow. I got my pay yesterday so I have a bit of extra money to spend. I paid the bills last payday. One thing I can always rely upon is my tea, I will never run out of tha.t I found more of my stash. Hehe, I love myself sometimes. It is 05:30. I woke up a bit later than usual and I am currently sitting and enjoying the sunrise. My mother’s birthday is this month and I am expected to host a dinner on her behalf. She will ask if I’ve written in my book and I will then be able to answer her with “yes, Mother I have,” and not be lying this time. She was raised in the belief that a woman has three jobs: to be a man’s daughter, to be a man’s wife and then to be a child’s mother. I do not necessarily agree with those values, though for some women that is fine but those are not my only options. She thinks I am wasting my life away at the SSR and that I need to settle down and give her grandchildren. My brother never believed the way she did. He has always had the thought that a woman should be whatever the hell makes her happy and protected. I have always admired him for that. he is the one who always found me when i lost my way, he reminded me of my reflection when it was tainted by my own feelings, he taught me that i had value and that i needed to figure out what it was, i now know my value.  
I am not really up to going out today but I don’t want Steve to think it is because of him, so, I will go and put a smile on my face until I can come home and get my pajamas on at 4 o’clock and pretend, even for a minute, that the world does not exist. I am thinking of calling my brother, Michael today. I miss him and have not heard from him in a while. I need to catch him up on all of the “Steve and James” drama that has gone on in the past few weeks. He likes James and thinks that he is nice but he also thinks that Steve is better for me because he will let me be free and work and that he won’t burn my light out like most men would. Not saying that James would do that, but that Steve specifically wouldn’t. I do hope that Michael comes with my mother for the dinner, I can’t handle her alone for long periods of time and he always knows what to say to calm her down. It helps that he is her favorite child. He was lucky enough to want to pursue the dreams and goals my mother had planned for him, with the exception of settling down and having children. He plans to adopt one day. He says that there are too many children without homes to bring more children into the world. He isn’t too into the dating scene but sometimes a pretty gal comes along and he likes to take her out for some supper. After a few weeks they’re usually over with.  
Sorry if I am boring you with petty details, I have nothing going on in my life this week. Lokitty loves his new bed I got for him. He has started to move into my home. He is the only solid man in my life, though he is completely against me working, or going out at all, or well doing anything that doesn’t revolve around him. Micheal says he is like most other men. I do need a trim sometime this week. My split ends are growing out. Loki is now over his bed, he is now on to sleeping on my bed. It's nice, I am a cuddly person and Loki is okay with that. He likes when I squeeze him to my bosoms.  
Well, I have officially rearranged my room. Time to write in my journal. I wonder how Steve’s doing. My mother is expecting me to have a date for her birthday party and I am thinking about inviting Steve as my date seeing as he is more than a fling, that and she thinks that James is a womanizer and doesn't much care for him. Little does she know. Well, at least I hope we are more thana fling. I am still debating on whether or not to invite James... I don’t know, should I? I’m not obligated to invite him. Right? We aren’t courting or anything. However, where ever Steve goes his little lamb is sure to follow.  
It 06:15, and I don’t even know when we are going to the park. Steve said he would call me when he woke up and was on his way so I could meet him there. I don’t even know what’s going on with me and James. I don’t know where we stand, or even if we stand anywhere else outside of the bedroom. I am beginning to get bored of the same old dance with him, and that’s not good. We are stagnated and I don’t have the time to waste when I could be focusing on someone who I love and who I know loves me back. I am thinking that James and I need to have a long chat, and if it goes the way I am imagining it, then, well it will be the end of our fling. Unfortunately, because I do love James, but I know that James will always choose Steve and I respect that.  
In the midst of me thinking, the tele rings and interrupts. I hear it from outside on my patio. I have the sliding glass door open a bit to let some cool morning air into the home. The door is through the kitchen and the phone is above the counter top. I get up and go inside. I set my book down and answer it at its third ring. I didn’t think Steve was up this early. I answer.  
Great, so update: that was my brother on the phone, Michael is not coming to my mother’s birthday party, and he will not be here in town for the next few months, which means on top of my mother’s birthday, he will also miss mine. I think it is time for a mental breakdown. I just need someone and I probably don’t even have a chance with Stevie and I am breaking up with James, which is my own doing I suppose but damn it hurts. I can’t call Michael, he is needed elsewhere and I would much rather talk to him in person anyhow. It is just better that way. He always hold me when I need him too, and he just makes things better. God Why does my life suck right now? I really could use a drink. At least I have my kitty. it is times like these that i need to remind myself of who I am, and that I am a stong, indapendant women who can handle things, right? Some time Mike plays games with me but he seamed pretty serious about not coming.

There's a humming vehicle that seams to stop across the street from my residence. It almost sounds like Steves motorcycle, I can't quite hear everything from my patio. I walk inside and set my tea cup down on the counter, I make my way to the window in the front and I peek the curtains open to see an auto with tinted windows is parked outside my drive. I have never seen it before, but you know what thye say "once you've seen one auto you've seen them all. A tall slender gentleman, with dark, curly brown locks steps out from the auto placing a hat upon his head. he is quite the man! by this point, I know exactly who it is! I run out, leaoing into his arms, heals and all. My Michael catches me, of course. He offers his arm to me and we walk into the house.  
“Hey Margie, how how are you?" “I’m better now." I pull his arm and drag him into the living room and shove him onto the couch, I ran into the kitchen and put a pot of tea on for him. “Two lumps of sugar, right Michael?” he hollers “yes please,” back to me. “You said you couldn’t make it in time for mother’s birthday dinner.” “No, Margie what I said was I wasn’t going to be catching the train I needed to get here on the 14th, you misheard.” “I most certainly did not mishear! You told me you weren’t coming and then apologized for the inconvenience!” “well I am here earlier than expected, sorry for the inconvenience Margie.” I swear I want to hit him sometimes, but I will nudge the urge aside because nothing else matters right now, in this moment, because my Michael Is here, right now, in my living room! He knows he did not make an inconvenience of himself, he has just lost is plot or something. The tea kettle screams and I pour his cup. I use the same cup I give him every time he is here. I have dubbed it “Michael’s cup.” It is white and more round shaped with beautiful blue Chinese patterns on the outer side of it. I haven’t seen him in months, but, however we chat all the time.  
We sit and talk for a while. I tell him all about last weekend with the boys in the park and, get this, he says he isn’t even shocked. Like it’s my natural behavior or something. We laugh, and I cry… a lot. Loki likes him, he sat on his lap the entire time. We sit and chat for I don’t know how long and the dreaded phone rings. It’s Steve. I was less excited than I should have been and I felt bad, but I hadn’t seen Michael in a while. “Michael?” “time for a date, Margie?” “…I can cancel-,” “You will not! If you plan on ever getting married you must stop with canceling on perfectly fine dates for ridiculous reasons. I will be here when you get back and it’s with Steve, so I’m not too concerned about you staying out all night, because well you’re too chicken for that to ever happen.” Had he been paying attention, he would know that I am not afraid to stay out all night. We always tell each other everything, inluding but not limited to when we get laid. Which for me isn't as often as I would like. I go and get dressed for my date, leaving Michael with a dirty look. He is right, but that is not the point. Loki usually follows me to my room, but this time he stayed on Michael’s lap. Most cat like Michael, he is naturally warm.  
The future present  
I get dressed in a yellow sundress and flats, nothing too spontaneous. When I go out into the living room Steve is on the couch chatting with Michael. Great, I will never leave for my date now. Steve looks really nice. Not too fancy, but not too shabby either. He has a plaid blanket folded and it is set on the coffee table under a picnic basket with goodies inside. I am gradually getting more and more excited about my date with Steve. He really is a sweetheart. “Peggs, if ya wanted we could just picnic here so you can spend some more time with your brother.” I love him. Damn I was looking forward to the park now. “Whatever you’re wanting to do Steve.” I give Michael a dirty look, I know what he is thinking and it is not worth vocalizing if he ever wants to use his vocal cords again. He takes note to my look but like most other times he speaks up, I was ready to strike him. “Nah, I think she really wants to go out to picnic.” “If you don’t mind,” I said. He looks relieved about that. I think he was looking forward to the date as much as I am. Michael stays back and Steve heads towards the door. I smile, not sure if I should be doing this, but I am any ways. We flag down a cabbie. I have been gaining more confidence as we get closer to the park. I keep looking over at Steve who never ceases to blush in my direction. There wasn’t much talking during the ride but, Steve did place his hand down on the seat for me to take it, he smiles and holds my hand dominantly. His hands were clammy. He, like always, is flustered and frantic. I have known him four and a half years now and he has not changed, well other than his size. The cabbie pulls up in front of the same park that we went to on our last date. I was in the middle of grabbing my purse, when Steve, who is tangled up with the large weaved picnic basket, decides to attempt opening my door for me, from the inside of the back seat. He pushes the basket aside. It is now only half on his lap and shoved into the door. He reaches over me to try to get to my door handle. “I got it pegs!” he says determined. His shirt then catches on the basket and tares slightly. The basket starts to dump over in my direction, he attempts to catch it, and he manages to stop most of the lunch from falling onto my lap. It was all in containers, thankfully. He stammers to pick it up, then pushes the basket aside once again, then holds it, reaches over me and opens my door on the inside, simply for it to close again before I could catch it. He holds his head in his hands. “It’s alright Steve, try again, I can wait.” He smiles up at me from his palms that are still held up to his face. “You’ll wait?” “Yes, I will. I promise.” He knows that I am a capeable woman and he tries to respect that, and let me be indapendent. I like it, though I dont mind a gentleman being kind and respectable either. If I had my choice I'd do it myself. steve opens his door and the basket starts to fall out of the auto, into the street. He catches the basket, thankfully. I don’t know what he would do if it all fell out, poor thing. He walks around the car and pays the cabbie from the window. He walks back a few steps and opens my door for me. I step out and I take the basket from him. I think we were both thankful for that. I have the picnic basket draped over my left arm and soon I will have Steve draped over my right. With tainted buildings towering on our right and a field of trees whispering on our left. we walk and we observe. Children are at play, mothers fixing hurt knees of their children. Couples walk around the pond, they sit, eat, giggle and even share kisses. I almost envy what they have, but I am too young for children. This is not something that I want to be thinking about in the presence of, well, Steve. He’ll think I’m odd, or worse, he’ll like the idea! I should try and think about something else but what? We walk over a little hill, we cannot see the other side until we reach the peak. In the distance a child cries, quietly, almost a whimper. I look around and see a little boy who is curled into a tiny ball. He has been pummeled to the ground by kids twice his size. I see the boys run off and they’re too far gone to stop. I look around to see if there is any sign of his parents, there’s no mother to aid him, no father to defend him and there isn’t anybody else to be seen. I do a full spin around to just to double check and something seams out of the ordinary. I see Steve. He has made his way over to the little boy. He squats down at the little boy’s side and ruffles his hair. He is calming him. His words are inaudible to me, though to the little boy they speak millions. The little boy about eight or nine years old. He has brown hair and he is wearing overalls with a red stripped shirt underneath. He is beautiful. I remain on the hill to let Steve work his fraternal magic. I then see a woman come up to the boy’s side disapprovingly. From where I stand, this seems as if it’s a recurring event and that this little boy knew what to expect. Steve doesn’t remove himself from the situation, nor does it seem right that, that man should. The little boy pleads his case “Momma I tried to stop “em! They were pickin’ on him and they just wouldn’t stop, Momma! I had to help 'em!” He cries into her skirt and tries to stammer his way out of groundation. He reminds me of what I imagine Steve was like as a child. I peer in closer and the woman seams familiar. Her hair is pulled back into a long ponytail. She seems about ten or so years to fifteen years older than I am now, in this moment. There are wrinkles and bags at her eyes. She seems to be at her peak. She knows what she is doing, she is wise and knows the ropes of motherhood. I could see her stress in the wrinkles of her brow. She rubs his back and I take notice to the ring on her finger. It’s not something that’s uncommon, obviously, but I also take notice to the way Steve defends the little boy, as if he has done this for the past- decade. I look in closer and the woman is unimpressed with his defense, she finds it silly and childish. The brown-haired woman looks respectable, she is wearing a modest dress with quarter sleeves and a rosy apron still tied in the back but folded over in the front. In this moment I realize that I have been acquainted with my future. Or at least a future that does not disappoint me. I become light headed and I close my eyes for a second, I look up and see Steve at the child’s side still comforting him, he relates to the boy. The woman is gone, like she was never there. I am not close to them nor can I hear anything they are saying but I see Steve make fists and fight pretend people and then I see the boy doubled over in laughter. I smile at the thought of a future with him. Steve utters something and the little boy points off in the distance to what looks like a mother and father who are completely over worked and have their hands full with two mid-teenagers and a toddler. Thus, showing the other side of the motherhood glow. Steve escorts the little boy to his family and explains what he saw. They nod at him and accept his explanation. Steve makes his way back to me. I haven’t moved from my spot. Thinking about it, it looked rather nice. There was a large oak tree that we could rest under and it was nice and sunny not to mention the overlooking view. I place the blanket down and Steve jogs his way to me, helping me in my time of struggles. “The blanket always wins. It’s my enemy!” I say maliciously as I roll onto the blanket that Steve had just laid out ever so nicely. He chuckles and lays next to me. We are both relaxed. At least I am. He rested his hand next to mine and I take it willingly. I had the sudden urge to tell him how I felt, but the words got caught inside of my throat. I swallow and push through the anxiety. {I can’t believe that I’m doing this} I remember thinking to myself. “Steve?” I break his concentration. “yeah?” “I love you…a lot.” I close my eyes, thinking that I had betrayed my body and would regret vocalizing those very words. I release my breath that I held captive within my lungs. I felt relieved, I think that I had betrayed myself for not saying it sooner. “yeah?” he said excitedly. I turn my head to meet his eyes. “yeah.” “Peggs?” “hmm?” “I love you too…”  
Tea for three  
I thought it would be a good idea to walk home. It would, at least give us a chance to talk. He decided to hold the basket as he confidently held my hand as we walked down the street. We approached my doorstep, Steve set the basket down on the top step and takes both of my hands. He bites his lip. “I’m either gonna regret this, or swear to do it every day.” His lips tasted like honey, his hands still clammy. I tried to pull my hands away but he wouldn’t let them go. He smiled, ever so softly. His eyes fell into me. He was looking into my eyes, pealing open into my soul, I swear he saw the way my heart pounded up against the inside of my rib cage. My stomach hollowed out. In that moment he saw everything I was and everything that was shielded by my flesh. With a simple, small breath Steve stole every ounce of air that dwelled within me. We have kissed before, hell we’ve done more, but not like this, not without James being present. Just me and Steve. I got to be kissed by Steve and Steve alone. My lips meeting his lips in private. He smiled in the same way James smiles at him. He bit his lip again after peering into the color of my eyes. “So, Steve? Which is it?” I said shakily. “Huh?... oh!” he got cut off by an ecstatic “YES!” from the other side of the window next to the door. Steve turns around and smiles at my brother proudly. Michael taps on the window with his knuckle and waves for us to come inside. Steve reaches down and grabs the basket and blanket and he opens the door for me. I step inside to find three tea cups placed on the dining room table with their designated saucers on top of the cups to help the steeping process. Two candles dressed the table with their ambiance, the lights were turned off. Steve steps up beside me. I look around the room and there are lit candles everywhere. The Victrola plays “Tea for two,” I laugh at humor of there being three tea cups placed. I think he plans on staying with us. “Michael, what’s this?” I ask. “Your dining room… oh, you meant the three cups, well it’s a minute until tea time (My favorite film), so I figured I could have it ready for you, but if you want to have a date part two, you can… show me the way to go home…” It takes Steve a minute to notice the joke made but after a minute of me pinching the bridge of my nose he finally understood the reference. Steve takes the basket over and sets it on the floor out of the way. He walks over to the table and pulls out a chair, he smiles my way. I go over and I sit down. A timer goes off and Michael rushes to the kitchen and comes out with a steaming plate of scones. He places the tray on the table and grabs the tea cup that has not yet been claimed. He starts to walk the other way. He scoots passed the back of my chair and on his way, I grab his shirt and pull him back. “You made the scones and tea, you get to eat the scones and drink the tea. That’s the rule.” “Since when is that a rule?!” “Since I just said so.” He sits at my demand. I am the queen and I will be obeyed. Steve simply giggled at my triumph. The room was all so romantic, well almost romantic. I didn’t mind it though. I have got my favorite men sitting at my table drinking tea with me. I am content. I pull a warm scone from the plate and place it on my saucer that I had just pulled from the top of my cup. The condensation from the tea left drops on the bottom of the plate. I took my napkin that had been placed with the set up, and I dried the bottom and set the tea cup in its place. I broke my scone in half and it flaked apart. More steam billowed from the center of the pastry. Crumbs fell and my eyes focused on that as I fell into my dreamscape. Steve held the cup and stared into the details painted. Michael has yet to grab a scone but he fingers the rim of the teacup, caressing its curves and edges as if it were a lover (No wonder he gets more partners in bed). We all sat in silence. Very awkward silence. Steve and I kept looking up at each other. Our eyes would meet and then they would drift away bashfully. Very dryly and sarcastically Michael comments, “Wow. The sexual tension is rising quickly. How-ever are you two controlling yourselves?” He stares blankly at Steve and I with a dead serious face, as we have said nothing nor is there sexual tension. Steve chokes after a second on contemplating what was just spoken. I am not amused… much. Michael stands up and grabs two scones from the plate and puts it on his saucer next to his cup. “I’ll just leave you two to your uncontrollable mating.” I can’t help but give a slight smirk at that comment. He walks behind my chair. I lean my head back to look up at him, not that he doesn’t tower over me when we are both standing. He leans down and kisses my forehead. He walks down the hallway and reaches the guest bedroom.  
It’s about 8:30 pm now. Steve and I have downed the entire pot of tea that was made and we scarfed the scones. Michael likes to sleep, so we were careful to be quiet. We clean up the house and put things away. As we clean my Andrew Sisters album still plays in the background. The entire night we smiled and laughed and joked around. We were able to be ourselves, and I loved it. I felt no guilt about Bucky not being there. Now, not feeling guilty did make me feel guilty, ironically enough. I did think of him throughout the night, I can’t deny that. I do love him, but the one that helps you finish the pot of tea is usually the forever love. Not that Bucky isn’t Steve’s forever love, or the one that I will love forever, but I get to have a chance to have him to myself before he is manhandled by James on the kitchen table.  
I go to the kitchen and start on scrubbing the dishes. My hips sway at the sound of the music. I feel my Stevie place his hands on my waist, which I love, and he leans up against me and sways to the music with me. His chest is pushed completely against my back and he rested his chin on my shoulder. His breath whispers across my bare neck and send chills down my spine. My back arches with the chills and he moves his hand beneath my breasts and pulls me back into him firmly." Little close there, Steve." I whisper softly. I feel his lips grin at my response. He chuckles, and I feel it in the pit of my stomach. I get my placing by putting my soapy, wet hands on the edge of the counter. He moves his other hand above the first, his thumb in the middle of my chest and his elbows locked, holding me in place. He bites his lip, I don’t have to see him to know he bit his lip, he always... bites his lip. My neck starts to feel warm, his lips are gently dancing across my skin. His teeth join, forming a duet, his tongue joins making it a trio, and his hands push me into him even tighter. We continued to sway at the music. He lifts one hand from beneath my breasts and moves the hair from my neck if only to vacate my skin for his own sinful desires. Without a beat to be skipped he places his hand back where it was originally, on my waist. My waist is the most sensitve part of my body. It is not only ticklish, but also, if I must admit, a bit arousing if touched soft enough. He takes both hands and makes them meet below my stomach only to drag them back to my waist again, stimulating the butterflies inside my abdomen. His trio has not stopped their interpretational dance on my neck, they did however speed up their rhythm. My heart joins their dance and pumps at a rapid pace. Between his breath and my heart, I can no longer hear the music being played in my dining room. We have created our own melody to dance to. Our heart strings have been intertwined and with Steve’s nimble fingers, he plays them in such ways that I did not think would be possible for me. He moves his artists hands to just beneath my neck, between my collar bones and very softly pushes and slides his hands across my chest and holds my shoulders for just a second and moves his hands to the base of my throat. "I- thought you couldn't dance-?" I say slightly chocking on my oun butterflies. The duo gives my neck a break and he gives angelic pecks on my shoulder that soon after shift into devilish kisses, scraping his teeth along my skin. "Just needed the right partners- I guess." He is referring to both me and James. You'd be surprised at what this boy could do to James. One small touch and James could easily be on his knees. He proves that there is always, always a bit of a dark side in every piece of light no matter how pure it may be perceived. It is the night that makes the sun seem ever so warm on your skin. Though he blushes at everything, this kid has seen the darkest slums of the city, he knows his ways through the gutter, he has slept in the streets of harlom, and been beaten all through the dirty bronx. He is an artist. He knows what to look for, he knows what is pleasing. He places one hand on the other on my stomach, and with his body he pushes me into the counter just a little bit more than I already was. He makes sure there are no atoms filling any space between his shirt and my dress. His body pushing into me causes my dress ever so slightly to lift above my knees. He rests his chin on my neck again and rather than returning to the much-wanted duet of his lips and tongue, he pecks, once and snuggles his head into my neck and smiles. Lokitty leaps onto the counter and startles Steve back. My hands still holding my weight against the edge of the counter, I laugh, I saw him prowl into the kitchen. Steve didn’t find it as funny as I did. I, still laughing, get pulled around by my arm and shoved into the counter. I catch myself, after I was against the counter and I place my hands where they were, but backwards. He places his hands right outside of mine and he leans into my body. His chest not more than an inch from mine. His arms at a 90-degree angle, holding his weight above me. It’s not fair, he teases me with his malevolent eyes. I want to break beneath him, only an inch stands in the way. His stern face fades into his soft, kind eyes. He gives a half smile and then run his teeth over his lips. His grip on my newly dented counter loosens and with one hand he slides it to my back and pulls me into him, softly. He leans his head down and starts to kiss at my neck again. His tongue and teeth steal the show as he feels every nerve in my throat. My breath is shallow, but steadied. My elbows break with the pressure. They wobble and fall to my side as his mouth takes over my body. My arms, with a mind of their own, wrap around his lower back lifting beneath his shirt feeling his bare skin. His mouth seems to get hungrier and hungrier as he feasts on me ever so gently. With his free hand he raises it to my face and holds my cheek where he wants it placed. His teeth retreat but his tongue and lips are ever so persistent. He slides his other hand from my back to my side and holds me in place, not that I plan on moving. He pauses his kissing and he shifts. His eyes meet mine, much like they have all day and he leans in tenderly and he dances his lips against mine. He sucks the already shallow breath from my mouth, his tongue introduces itself to me and makes acquaintance with my teeth. My mouth was ever weakened by the poison of his sweet tasting lips. His hand on my cheek slides into my hair and nests itself deep within my locks. He sashays his hips against mine and rests his eyes kindly. The lids of his eyes flutter down as the Victrola’s music becomes louder. The record has been changed, I look passed Steve and focus my eyes across the room, in the far corner, where the music is flaunting from. Michael stands there with a soft smirk on his face, I should be appalled, I should be trying to kill him, but the sound of Frank Sinatra playing at the beat of Steve’s hips, was oh, so satisfying. Steve calmly moves his hands to my hips to gain his own placing as he glides across me to the music. He rests his chest against mine, finally. I rest my head in the crook of his neck, he rest his head on top of mine. He slides his hands to my lower back and he leads them down into the “dangerous territory zone.” I let him. He takes up my hands the moment the song changes. He leans in to my ear. “Why should I try to resist?” He sings to me before the lyrics even begin. His hips begin to rock compassionately with mine as we sway moving our foot placing a little at a time. “I’ve got you under my skin.” He sashays his hip more dramatically. “I’ve got you…deep in the heart of me.” He bites his lower lip playfully. “So deep in my heart that you’re really a part of me…I’ve got you… under my skin.” I chime in. I feel the switch in his heartbeat. Its sounds in accordance to his hips, or much rather, his hips move in accordance to his heartbeat. He releases my hands long enough to pull up on his suspenders and drop them to his side and shove his sleeves to his elbow. My breath grows heavier and deeper. I look back passed Steve once again and I make sure that Michael has made himself scarce. I would die if he were to see me dance. We move completely from the sink. The dishes will have to wait a bit longer. We awaken every strip of wood that is placed beneath us on the kitchen floor. Steve is not yet tired, but not energized either. He backs away from me, holding my right hand and he spins me out and pulls me into him. I gain the sudden urge to kiss him. He kisses back. We break our joined breaths as he twirls me three or four times beneath his upheld arm. My dress poofs up as if I were in a fairytale and he my prince… a Brooklyn prince with the mouth a sailor, but a prince none the less. The second I reunite with him fully he lays me into a dip. As my head is thrown back and his arms holding my weight at my lower back, he leans in. “Been wantin’ to do that for a while.”  
Parts of his body have been awakened by the shared sensuality but others have been nurtured to a calm state. I get to my room first and I push my door open and lead Steve in. he shuts it behind him. I turn around towards him and I am able to wrap my arms around his neck softly. My hands hang from my relaxed wrists. I yearn to spend more time with his lips. They call to me seductively and with an impure objective. I can’t help but answer and give into the desires. We idly kiss and he leads me to my bed where the mound of laundry remains after all this time. i choose option two and shove them to the floor to be delt with later. he pics up on his little dance as his arms are held above my head, he positions himself lower, leans his head down and dot...dot....dot.  
He rolls over onto his back, resting beside me. Our hearts pound at the inside of our bodies, wanting to greet the other in person. They march on the same cadence. Our chests both heaving, our bodies both limp. We hold hands. His are still clammy, but that’s okay, because so are mine. “Love ya Peggy.” He utters in the midst of us catching our escaping breaths. I laugh. Not because of what he said, but because after all that, this is the first thing he thought to say to me. I can’t erase the grin from my face. “I love you.” I use what is left of my energy to mount him only for the purpose of kissing him and I failed. He moved just right and I started to fall. I hold onto him as I go down and he followed on top of me. I hit my head on my night stand and the lamp came crashing down off the side. I couldn’t think of anything else to do but burry my head in his chest and laugh hysterically. We lay there for a while before deciding to get up and go shower off real quick like.  
For the soul purpose of saving on water we decide to shower together. I grab two towels from the closet and set it on the back of the toilet. I warm the shower up and step in as Steve relieves himself. He joins right after. We rest under the hot water for a few minutes. He pulls me into his chest, and I wrap my arms around his back. He kisses the top of my head before resting his head on it. After about five or so minutes Steve reaches for the bar soap that was setting on the tray behind me and starts to lather my back up. I could almost swear he used it as an excuse to feel me up, almost,but i think he is too sweet for that. The thing about Steve is that everything, and nothing are both sexualized and not sexualized at the same time. He is a man of the arts. He sees the world in so many different colors and pastels. He views the body as a canvas. A blank canvas is not an empty canvas because it is so full of potential. He sees the beauty in everything, he has trained himself to do such. So, when Steven Grant Rogers feels something, or touches something, just know he is looking much deeper than the surface, he is seeing it for everything that it is worth, and if it is worth nothing, you can be damned sure Steve will make it worth everything.  
After he has sufficiently coated the area of my body with lavender soap suds I wrap my arms around him once more to cover his chest with soap I pull back with a cheesy smile. He reluctantly hands me the soap after insisting that he can do it. I hadn’t had to say a word to him. I take the bar of soap and I have fun with it. I cover his body, and I mean cover. I made sure to spend extra attention to his chest, which i have always loved. i lathered him all up with soap- everywhere, now, I don’t want to further this into too much detail about the matter, but at least we were in the shower at the time. After our shower, we dried off and headed to bed. It was nice, he snuggled me the entire night. I have no idea what time it is right now but I’m guessing it’s a safe bet that I will not be waking up at my usual scheduled time. I fall asleep wrapped in my towel. Stevie did not seem to mind it. He kept me in it all night. As soon as our heads hit the pillow we were completely done for the night.  
We wake up the next morning to the forbidden smell of coffee being brewed in my very home. I am offended. Stevie is awake by the time I wake up. I am not sure as to how much longer he was awake for. I look up at him and he smiles down at me. His hand was threaded through my hair. I snuggled my face into his arm. He only held me tighter. I glance over to where my lamp had mysteriously fallen and the glass was all cleaned up and It looked freshly vacuumed. I don’t quite understand how the hell we slept through that, but I do know that I love my brother. I don’t really have any desires to get out of bed right now. Lokitty is curled up on top of my hip. I give him a pat on the head and a run through his tail. I was shocked by how he didn’t wake me up to feed him. I wonder if a certain brother knows anything about that. I should hire him as a housewife, on second thought, maybe that’s not the best idea. Stevie and I cuddle for a while longer. We dread having to wake up and get up, but I smell breakfast! I love when Michael stays over. He gets his nickers in a twist when all I eat is “out.” He feels the dire need to feed me this food called “healthy,” so I don’t die young and can pop out a few children for him to love and watch and spoil or something, i guess.  
About an hour after we woke up, by the way that hour was called eleven o'clock, I continued on dishes, it's the one thing that michael simply will not do. James had called to see where steve was, and he had gotten no answer for the first two times- I didnt mean to, but now I have a pissed off sergeant and that's never a good senario. When my brother answered the phone, well James didn't recognise his voice and he got angry and protective and gave poor old Michael an ear full. If I know my brother he took it with a grain of salt and handled it calmly. See barnes gets jealous over people who care about steve in a more than friendly way, men especially. They can be intimidating and he fears that one day someones going to use Steve in a way that only James is allowed to do. They dont have to be more than a few feet from Steve for James to go army sniper on them. Breakfast was fantastic, wild berry pancakes and fresh organge juice. He has been gifted the entire gene of pancake making from my father. One day Michael will make the perfect house wife. My brother reminds you of Mr. Jarvis, in the way that he is kind hearted and loyal, he is slow temperted. He always chooses his words wisely and always knows what to say at the right moment- he is not like my mother in that way. I am more like my mother. I am far from patient, I always assume the worst and I find myself at a loss for words more times than I should for the job that I have. Her aspirations for me were for me to become a civilized lady and not a man in pumps and a skirt. Her philosophy was that we should allow all men to hold open our doors- "Even if theyre only doing it to cop a feel?" I'd always ask, she was never thrilled with my witty sence of humor.  
I am currently sitting on the couch with Micheal in the chair in front of the fire place and Steve on the other end of the couch. He is elbow deep in a scetch pad with charcol on his nose and all up his arms, and my nose deep in this scarlet journal that I am growing fond of. My mothers birthday dinner is a week from today and I am expected to cook. Don't get me wrong, I love my mother to pieces- it is just that her little girl, isn't a littler girl anymore and I think that upsets her. She doesn't approve of me being sweet on two men or me being in the SSR. Nor did like that I was in the war like Michael. She could not be more proud of him. None of those are a common thing, well not for us women. Double standards- what a blessed thing. Anyways, I need to buy a new dress, one that will please my mother. I need to figure out what the hell I am cooking, and more importantly- how. If my mother has been correct about one thing it's that I should have learned to cook years ago, maybe then I'd make some decent pancakes for Steve. We sit for a good hour without speaking to each other as we partake in our oun lazy day activities. Mikey is sipping on a cup of tea and writing, though it's different from mine. Michael preferes work that can be published. Not more than a few minutes after the hour the tele rings again. It's most likely James. I close my journal and answer the call.  
Sure enough it was, he was far from happy and on his way over to give me his whole rant personally. "How dare I keep his steve out past his bedtime and not let him know." We go through that whole process, Steve was uncomfortable and Michael was trying his hardest not to laugh. It really wasnt funny. James took Steve home practically by the scruff and Steve followed naturally. I didnt have much to say, well I did but I know when to keep my mouth shut. I didn't want Steve paying for my temper. There are quite a few things that I could have said but i understand where James is coming from. Anything could have happened and the serum doesn't magically change that nor does it change James worrying about him. That is one thing I can respect about him, he really cares for Steve and wil not let any one forget it. I am no exception to the rule. I worry for steve too but on the flip side of the coin I know what its like to have every door held open for you.  
Monday/Tuesday: I have continued to have nightmares everytime Steve does not stay the night and Steve hasn't been around lately. Michael has kept me company and has gone shopping for me and he has cooked me food. He is truly my Knight in shining armour. Loki has been sleeping in Michael's room with him, leaving my cuddle-less.  
Wed: I slept in Michael's room last night. I just needed to be held. There was no night frights but I really miss Steve. I have depression and I have done things that I am not proud of but Michael has always been there for me. ((((TRIGGER WARNING)))) He was there for me when I was caught between life and death, I was in the tub and I had a razer in my hand and I had been drinking a bit. I discolored the water and Michael could smell the brandy as he passed by the bathroom. I don't Typically drink anything while I am bathing. Alcohol hightens your emotions and 9 out of 10 times I am masking being depressed so it was never a good idea. He snuck into the washroom and threw the curtains open without questioning me first. I had my head rested up against the wall and I wasn't phased. He lifted my body from the tub and took me to my bed and wrapped me up in the blankets and stayed there with me, skipping his date. I was about 19 when that had happened. I don't recall what put me in that position in my head, but something did. Part of me feels like that's why Michael stays in touch as often as he does. It was a selfish thing to do to him and I will never do that again.  
My mother dinner, yay.  
I love my mother, I love my mother, I love my mother. I started and ended the day with schnapps. I didn't even fret about the dress, I just wore one of my newer ones. She wasnt pleased that my brother came out a week early but she quickly got over it when she found that I had no date to the dinner. "Margaret, you will never get married and reach your full potention if you cant stick to one man, or any man." I ignored her at first but then she kept on bringing it up through out the night. I'd be in the middle of talking and she would cut me off to tell me that I am going to die an old spinster. I just wated it to end and I wanted to go to sleep 1500 times while she was there. After a bit of critiques, I had enough of it and I opened my big mouth and the next thing I knew, we were both standing with our hands planted firmly in the table. We were just screaming at each other and blaming each other for petty reasons. Moments after that the Pot of pasta had been thrown off of the table. Now again dont get me wrong, my mother has been there for me through everyting and there will never be another woman who understands me the way she does and she raised me to be me and to be wonderful and I'd like to think that am. We just don't see eye to eye all of the time. We argue because we care about the other's opinion in a situation. She married young and had my brother and for that alone shes the best woman alive, but she drives me up the bloody wall, I am sure- no, I AM positive that I do the same for her. We do get along sometimes and she always compliments the tea- at least theres that. She complimented my decor which was nice but she was a bit bent when i wasnt "Reaching my full potential" by having my chair pulled out for me. I did cook. I made baked chicken with pasta, she seamed okay with it. She couldn't get over how juicy and tender the chicken was. I couldn't believ it either. She did call me an alcoholic and implied that I was a harlot. I sware I bit my tounge so hard that it bled. The wine however helped and after a few glasses it had stopped stinging my tongue. I was thrilled when her bed time neared- then she dashed all of my hopes by staying the night. I am happy to have her, but I cannot disapoint her with breakfast- so I had decidedthat we'd be eating at "Rosies". Next time I need a date for my Mother's arrival I will be calling Stark, because unfortunatly he is my best option and i am that desperate. I told her that we were courting, he wasn't going to mind me saying that. I had to tell her something. My mother likes Steve but I think hes on groundation with James for a while. It's in my best interest to just lay low of either of them for now. Any ways... so she shows up and right away she points out crab grass growing in a small patch under the drain pipe. I ignored her but then the second we got inside it was correction after correction followed by "Im teaching you to be a good wife Margaret so stop complaining." I've been in "wife training" since I was 3. I just would like to finish this day but I'm so entrapped in writing as of late. I really dont know what to do about the boys. God I'll be stuck with Stark for the rest of my damned life. I dont know that I can handle that. I end up going to my mother about this and she to just lie low of them for a while and stick with Howard for now. By the way she wants to meet him tomorrow at breakfast. She told me that if I wanted to be with Steve that I may have to hold that door open or else no one else will. My mother is a good person to talk to sometimes. She loves to sit up late and discuss life while drinking all of the tea. She is good company when she wants to be. I was curled up in a blanket talking to her through the night. She had her infamous long robe on. It was a soft pink silk robe. She's had it since Michael was brought home. He came a little pre mature. I fell asleep listening to Tchaikovsky on the victrola. My mother did too. When she woke up at 01:30 she helped me off to bed and stayed there. Again, I had no nightmares.  
My internal clock woke me up at 04:30. I went into the kitchen still sleepy eyed and my mum was sitting listening to music ever so softly and drinking a fresh brew of tea. The music was simply instrumental and barely able to be heard. I had forgotten that she also wakes up this early. I poured myself a cup of tea and sat down next to her. She had the Back door open so she could hear the birds and feel the crisp air make it's way into the kitchen. We had a relaxed morning and she was fairly pleasent. Michael had picked up the pot of pasta that was thrown and gave it to a stray dog that hangs around my house. The pot was on the stove, clean. My mum must have washed the dishes. She likes dishes as much as I do, which isn't that much but we will tolorate them. My mum and I have our issues, but all in all I love her and she is a great person. Michael woke up about 06:00. His internal clock has a snooze button and he usually sleeps in. He stays up all night reading so he usually needs the extra few hours of sleep. We were all sitting by the window, watching the morning by and my mother speaks up softly, almost too timid to pry. I think she feels bad. "Margaret... Are you going to invite your new male friend to breakfast?" She bit her lip slightly, almost as if she felt like she had snooped too far. "Yes, Mum. I'll go give him a ring on the tele." I say back trying to reasure that I was also sorry. She smiles back at me. I pic up the phone and call Howard. "Hey, Love. Meet me at Rosies?" He caught on fast, which was great. It was so awkward. Did I really call him "love?" God what's wrong with me. "Yea babe- Meet ya there." He was so malicious in his wording. He was going to have fun with this and I was completely screwed.  
We head out to breakfast and Howard was on time. "Mrs. Carter, What a pleasure to finally meet you. I have heard so much about you." It's true, he has. Howard's one of my best friend. She's flatered by his kind words. He definately knows how to please the ladies and impress the mothers. He leads us to the table that he has already been seated at and pulls my mother's seat out for her while doing so he pulls a bushel of flowers out and hands them to her. I can't help but roll my eyes. He most likely had Mr. Jarvis pick them up for her. The flowers were anice nice touch, too nice. Now she is going to expect me breed with him and i don't want to, nor would I ever. No offense Howard but he is a pig and he knows it. The entire breakfast was nice and my mother and Howard hit it off. He would flirt and she would accept it. he'd brush his hand over her's and she'd blush. It was all so odd. And now my mother's falling in love with Howard Stark...do you see the problem with that. After a few eye rolls my mother puts her finger up to stop howard from talking briefly. "kiss." She raised her eyebrows. "E-excuse me mother?" "I said kiss. If you really are in love, I want you two to kiss." We were't in the position to argue or take any time. I lean in to Howard and he pulls me out of my chair and pulls me onto his lap. I was just about to slap him when he leaned away from my mother and kissed me. Well he didn't. He had put his other hand there to block our lips and he kissed his hand instead. It was good enough for my mother. My mother's plane would be flying in to the port soon and she needed to be on it. She was afraid of boats ever since Pearl Harbor. Michael took my mother to her plane and boarded it with her leaving. I don't think that I was quite prepared to be home alone, but like always I will make do. Howard drove me home and walked me up to the front porch. "I really helped you out ther Peg..." Howard was so full of himself. "Yes, you did, thank you for that by the way." he stood there for a few seconds too long. "Howard?" "Yes?!" He answered too quickly. I looked this beutiful eyes briefly and I held his cheek while I kissed him. He kissed me back and held my waist. "Goodbye Howard." He simply got into his car and sat there as I went inside. I a smile on my face and Howard stayed out there for a few minutes before closing his mouth and driving away. It was worth it to knock him down a peg.  
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Well It has been a few days since my last entry. My mother is now gone. God I'd have to be pretty deserate to go to Stark for a date. James came by unexpectedly and we talked for, well- hours. We discussed everything that both of us were feeling and we were blunt about it. I made my points and he made his. We talked about Steve, yes, but we talked about us and where we stand. We agreed that it would be best for us to not be standing anywere without Steve. Steve is fine by the way, he just got a stern talking to and well I dont know much more than that. Thee is more, but I am not at privilage to know. He seams fine. I guess they decided that Steve wouldn't talk to me until James got the chance bacause he hasn't approached me but he does keep glancing towards my desk. I'm at the SSR office. Nothing too pressing has been going on. Chief is currently out and I am in charge if the phones... and more importantly, lunch. I am thinking of bailing early. I passed Steve today- they had him in office, which is a nice surprise. He greated me with a kiss on my cheek. We do act more lovey in front of the agents beause of his relationship with James, it masks...them. Honestly, that's not all I want to be. I want to be with Steve, not their body guard whilst they waltz in a mascarade. I am not a babysitter- I love them but at what cost? My dignity? I've worked hard for that. I get pecks on my cheek in the day all the while James gets to be the right partner, the end of the line, and all in between. I love steve, I do. I promise I do. I know that I am not Barnes, nor will I ever be close. I would still do anything for them, whether or not I am with either of them. Peopple question if I really love Steve. Again I know that I am not James- I also know that steves mom Sarah was a lovely woman who raised a wonderful man who was a hero long before the damned super serum, he got it from her. Take my word on that, he was a hero while his mom was in the hospital with T.B and he stayed by her side through the risks. He was a hero when they had no food and he brought her his portions while she was in bed and didnt know to what extent that they were emptied. At the begining of the season they had enough food to last, but by the end- the mice had gotten to whatever they could. I know that Steven Grant Rogers was a hero when his father died and when he did what he could to protect and comfort his mother. So when I say that I loved steve before the serum, this is what I mean. I loved him before he was noticed. I loved him before the granade and before the serum and I love him still. He deserves the world so I understand why he'd chose Barnes- but he hasn't. If he only loved James he wouldn't bother kissing me infront of the agents, he wouldn't bother with our dates- or the dance lessons or the flowers- or any of it. There was this one date before the serum. We took a taxi all over New York. Upstate all the way south, until we saw the boarder of New Jersey and We turned around. We held hands and I kissed his cheek. We ate out at Rosies. That's why it's our go to place. We were in each other company all day. We went to the Storks clun and it was way to packed so we had the cabbie take us back to Rosies and we shared our first dance there. It was our first date. It was my favorite date.  
He gets a brief moment in between calls and he comes over to sit on my desk to chat with me. It was a nice suprise. I definately needed to see him and hear his voice. I asked him if he wanted to go out tonight and he declined- which means him and Barnes are going out on a date, and thats fine too. It'll give me some bonding time with my stray cat and some time to do a few pieces of laundry that I have to do. I'll live. I can spend a night or two alone- hell I live alone. This is why I shouldn't get attatched to people.  
Well it's tonight. I'm in my nighty. Maybe I'll give a Dum Dum a call. He is pretty suppportive of me and Steve. This is all basically my life, On again off again with not one, but both boys all while I deal with the double standard society and the chief breathing down my neck. I'll keep you updated should anything else change but I doubt it. It's never different and I highly doubt it will change now.  
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Theres a huge mission going on and we all need to be blood tested before we fly accross the Atlantic to a third world country to make sure we arent bringing anything back- we will be tested before we leave and when we get back and then they will analize the samples etc. and see what/if anything has changed and then any agent with a change will go through quarentine and be assesed. No one ever catches anything. This is a huge opportunity for me. Steve had to back me up for me to go, I usually would not have allowed it but I really wanted to go. There were limited spots on the team and I needed one, desperately. All of our agents going on the plane are in line to have our blood tested. I'm first one in so they can have me be the first one out. I'm setting the example for these ladies so they feel worse when they cry over a needle. I sit and they take my blood and then everyone elses' and that's that.  
We get ready to leave by 05:00 the next morning. I'm all packed ad ready to go. all the labs checked out- otherwise they would have stopped us. Oh wait..they did. "Carter dont step foot on that plane!" I turn around in shock with steve right beind me. "Allowing a woman is gutsy Carter- but a pregnant woman? who the hell are you trying to fool agent?" Excuse me what? I don't know what to say at this point- I have no clue- really. I didnt know. I was at a complete loss for words. I cant even imagine what steve was thinking, god. I can't. I dont even know. I- yeah- not ready to do this mother thing. I wasn't going to have children for at last 10 years. "Sir?" thats about all I can mutter. "Peggs?" Steve questions. "Sir, I dont- I mean- I'm not" I couldnt get a proper sentance out to save my life. "You're not going Carter, that's final." At this point I'm the farthest from worried about this trip. There has to be a mistake. From there I kiss Steve goodbye and I go for a walk in to get a second opinion. I need to be sure- if theres a mistake, I need to know. I don't even care about this trip right now. I'm so shakey. I can't possibly be. God my mother's going to kill me. She wanted a granchild- but not like this. Not out of wed. Logging this is a bit straining.  
I currently am at home alone. Steve's across the world and I have no way to call. I don't even know what the right thing to do is. My mother will tell me to get married- ten she'll spend the next five weeks in my spare bedroom. I'm sorry...I dont know that I can do this right now. I'm going to be fired. This is all happening way too fast. The tests checked out. im pregnant and I know whose it is. its only one possiblity- trust me I know this. I know, I've been with both but Steve is the only one who is actually able. I need to grow up more and become a mother.  
Small talk  
1949, August. A warm summer day, pleasant for walking and biking and maybe perhaps even a refreshing swim should the urge arise and the harbor be less full of people than the streets of Brooklyn herself. I don’t much like making my personal life open to many, but seeing as I enjoy your company I shall share with you my daily routine, if you are so inclined to peer into my pages. Like most good books, I am well read, my pages creased, my binding worn, and I am left open to those who are curious enough to read me. not always in my favor, but i have gotten quite used to it. Eventually my story will be put down, yes, but I do not fret, for I will be picked back up again by a wondering mind.  
My day always, always starts with a fresh brew of tea. A nice spice tea to warm me up on colder morns and a variety of herbal teas on more sunny days. Herbal enough to enjoy the sunrise yet not to earthy to relax me back into my bed and under my covers where I peacefully dream fantasies that I must leave under the pillow as soon as the sun is drawn over the dewy grass each day. On occasion I will bring out my little scarlet book. It’s fairly small but it fits my writing cravings when they do surface, which isn’t as often as my mother probably would have liked when she gifted it to me. Nothing has changed. When I was just a little thing my mum would encourage me to write and my excuses are all the same then as they are now. "I cannot write now, I’m tuned in this book!" "But mum the weather is perfect for a walk, I have no time to write on a day like this!" "Yes, mother I’m aware it’s raining! But the puddles are so big! I just have to jump in them before the rain is dried!" After my morning wake up tea, I hobble to my drawers and pick out anything that catches my eyes. Today it’s a rosy sundress and a long sweater with half sleeves. I grab my clothes and drag my bum to the washroom where I will spend 90% of the time leaning against the tile and soaking up the warmth of my pressured water and the other 10% will be spent washing up and shaving so I can wear the sundress that I will most likely get annoyed with by noon today. I get out of the shower and I let my hair dry. As its drying I put on the death trap pantyhose and get dressed. I find a pair of black pumps with silver clasps that will compliment my dress and I go to the mirror in my bedroom and plop myself infront of it to finish my curls and do my make-up, which isn’t much make-up at all.  
Today I’ve got a business date with Captain Rogers. We seldom do get around to discussing business like planned. We keep on rescheduling in hopes of discussing the business that brought us on the date. So far, I think it's working well. We’ve had four dates prior to today, and not once have we discussed the SSR. I like our set up. Today is a beautiful day. And the most beautiful thing about this day is that it’s a Saturday, so no work...as much as I love answering phones and waiting on pig headed men until the howing commandos need me. So far, I, regretably, have woken up at 04:45, had my tea and enjoyed the morning. Gotten showered and dressed. I’ve done my hair. It took no more than 20 minutes. And now it is 05: 10. Our date is at 08:00 and we are meeting at a little place called 'Rosie’s' down the street from the SRR. I’ll be on time...Steve will be late like always. I'll order their famous bear claw and a cup of mint tea, Steve will say he's fine and then order water later and it will all be so polite. It is always only polite. He'll make me blush and I'll leave to go "powder my nose" or "freshen up" and he will sit and wonder if I’m coming back from the bathrooms like I always do and we will never get around to discussing the SSR.  
By 06:30 I’ll sit on the porch and listen to the radio show (until I have peaked my aggravation with Betty Carbor) and i will enjoy a small pot of tea. I’ll get up and do a few things around the house. Feed the stray cat, and change his kitty litter...I named him Loki. He is black and loves our neighbors’ horses. I do the few dishes and I pull something out for super. I vacuum and I sweep the kitchen. finally, I go into my room and make my bed and put away my clothes, not really they'll lay there until tonight when i either sleep on them or shove them off of the comforter to be washed again. 07:30 it’s time to go meet up with Steve. I leave and wave down a passing cabby and now I’m on my way.  
In this black cab, I pull out lipstick to brighten mine and perfume that is running low, I’ve had it a few months now. I spritz it on me. Enough to make Steve wonder what it is but not enough to make the poor guy go into an asthma attack. I pull a silver charm bracelet from the bottom of my bag that never ends and I slip it on my right wrist. It was a Christmas present from Steve and Bucky. It goes with most of my wardrobe.  
The cab pulls up in front of the cafe and my heart starts to race. My face is blushing. I can feel it but not to worry... Steve’s probably late, therefore it will scurry off my cheeks before he even arrives. I go in and sit down. It’s 08:06 and I walk up to the bar. I set my purse on the counter next to me...and I wait. And I wait and I wait longer. Oh, I almost forgot...I’ve got to plan out what I’m wearing tonight. James and I are going on a business date as well...to the theater! Neither of us have discussed our on-going relationship… friendship with Steve. We don’t really talk about business either on our dates, nor do we discuss much about home life either. In-fact the main topic of choice is none other than the little fiery blond from Brooklyn himself. 08:35 whe- oh, and there it is! The roaring sound of Steve’s motorcycle that he is now big enough to ride. The engine stops. 08:32 "Hey...I’m-a I’m sorry I’m late-" he said, Softly with a hand on my shoulder. My heart skips a beat. My back still turned. "I uh... I got you some flowers..." He bites his lip. I don’t have to see it to know that he bit his lip. He always...bites his lips. He sets them down next to me. I glance over to see what kind of flowers he is gifting me with this time. My favorite, like always. Carnations, the flower of choice when roses are too Cliche. He knows me well. I swing around in the chair more amused by the chair than I should have been... "It’s alright Rogers... I haven’t been waiting long" "You sure... ‘cuz it’s kinda late..." "I’m sure Steve." He sits next to me and it’s all polite talk. I get ready to order. Before I could open my mouth, Steve has decided what he wants and he opens his mouth to speak. Kinda rude but what can you do. He makes up for it and more. "Yeah she'll have 2 of your bear claws and a cup of your minty tea stuff. I’ll take a water please." All said with a smile. That was sweet of him. He enunciated well and he didn’t stammer. He has gotten bolder. I blame that on James. It’s all James’ fault, he is ruining our shy little Steve. Oh god. I’m blushing. Why am I blushing. My face is turning red as I try and evaluate my surroundings, there’s something making me blush though I can’t figure it out. My body knows my surroundings better than I do. All Steve did was sit down next to me. I can feel the blush in my stomach. I contemplated going to go powder my nose like you and I discussed but it’s too early in the date... My hand has already moved towards my purse on the desk. It was a mistake to reach. I grab my bag any ways, I’m already this far, and hang the fabric strap over the bar chair. It falls. I’m a klutz. I’m still blushing. to my surprise his hand is resting on my thigh. Comfortably. He moved it and reaches for my bag like the sweetheart he is. He sets it on his lap and smiles. Dammit my bag of excuses has been kidnapped and held captive on his lap. Never have I ever been so jealous of an item such as my own purse. Dammit Peggy! Stop. This is enough of that type of thinking. I’m stuck. Blushing. There’s no way out. This is it. This is the end... What’s this...is he blushing? Of course, he is. Its slight. But it’s there. My theory is that he was born with a blush. Either that...or too much time around Bucky made it permanent. Maybe a bit of both. His mother Sarah is the one who gave him that gene, Bucky simply preserved the trait.  
The business date soon ends. Nothing too exciting, it was all so quaint. He roars off on the ‘lady-catchin’ machine” as James puts it oh so elegantly. I decide to walk home which by the way, was a bad idea. My nylons ran from my inner thigh down to the front of my ankle. It was my last pair. He offered me a ride and regrettably I had to declined. Me in a dress on a motorcycle was just not the best idea in the world. Had I been with Bucky he would have told me to get over it and get on, but I was not with Bucky thankfully. Not yet anyways.  
8:00, the play will start in one hour, James is on his way and I am not yet ready. I showered, but I am still laying on the mound of clothes on my bed, uprooting those fantasies from my pillow to my mind as my stray cat rests with me. I picked up a few extra pairs of pantyhose on the way home and I now have a pair on. That is all I have on. My bed is so comfortable and Lokitty is so inviting, his purr lures me in to pet him and grant him all my affection.  
There’s a small three taps on my bedroom door, dammit, I knew this was bound to happen. I spring up from my bed and as I do so I startle Lokitty from his rest. He pounces on the dresser next to my door in guard of his people. I grab the robe that is draped over my bed and I throw it on. I hear the knob jiggle. “just a minute!” I shout from my bed. I reach for the knob but it is already opening. I hold the door open barely ajar. James shining eyes stare at me in my partially opened robe that I frantically close after realization. “I said just a minute Mr. impatient.” I go to close the door but it is stopped abruptly by his brown, heavily worn yet lightly scuffed, leather shoe, they're the best he has. “damn I was too late.” He said devilishly, I don’t blush like I would with Steve because, well, this is Bucky’s personality. It’s what’s to be expected. I finish dressing myself and by 8:20 I’m completely ready to walk out the door.  
James is nothing more than a recurring date. I have no belief that it will go farther than that, because James and I share a common interest, and unlike most common interests, ours is Steve and he will always come first for both of us. James and I are fairly open with one another and after a dozen or so dates he finally trusted me enough with his and Steve’s shared secret. I have always suspected something of the sort with them. They’re a bit too close to be “only friends”, even if they claimed to be best friends, it still doesn’t cover completely how they see one another. One can go to a market and look out into the sea of people and pick two people out and have absolute knowledge that those two are wed, or at least in some sort of relationship, and in that same way is the way that I’ve always seen them. Sure, at first, I did question it. It’s not every day that you meet a couple of the same sex, but after a while of getting to know them, I become more and more sure of my prediction. Not to even mention the way James lifts Steve up in words and the way Steve’s portraits of James have been captured by page after page in his sketchpads, or the crinkle in James’ eyes that is only brought on by the slightest mention of Steve’s name. Not even I, in my deepest love and affection for Steve could ever recreate the smile that is painted on James’ face when he sits like an adder, captivated by his Steve intensely drawing on the shaggy rug that is sloppily placed beneath the windowsill th winowsill that is illuminated by the moonlight and stalks between the cracks within the curtains. Don’t get me wrong, I love Steve. I love him with all my heart and I’d gladly wake up to his sweet smile every single day of every single year for the rest of my life. I would gladly wake up and attempt to make banana pancakes for him, though I fail at it every time. I just can’t seem to ever get them right, but I’d try anyways. And I would make sure there was enough for James too, because I know he would be there every day.  
After I am ready I open the door to find James, still standing there. I am wearing my little red dress that goes down to my knees and my sexy black heals to match. My hair cascades down in its curls. I am still wearing my silver bracelet that the boys both chipped in to get. Like I said, it goes with every outfit. James looks ravishing, like always. Hair slicked back with a single strand that has been declared a traitor, due to it never staying where it was placed. I have dubbed that strand " little Bucky," as I am sure i do not have to explain. He is wearing a white shirt that is being hidden by a black dress coat. His sleeves are half way up and he is well washed, surprisingly. He always has some sort of grease on him. He is wearing black loafers (shoes) and pinstriped pants. The top button on his dress shirt is undone and he isn’t wearing a tie. He is wearing a little silver band on his right hand. Now, the significance of that little ring is that it’s a wedding band, from Steve, shhh. He wears it on his right hand so it will not be questioned. He is not ashamed of it, but it’s under Steve’s request. Steve says that he “would have to go bail Buck outta a fight with some looser who can’t stand two men kissing.”  
“I’m ready,” I say as I step through my door. Lokitty rushes passed my legs to avoid getting locked in. “bout damn time,” he says with a side smile. It’s not just any side smile, it’s James’ side smile. Steve bites his lips and James does his side smile. He offers his arm and I take it. I grab my purse on the way out and I lock the door.  
He decides that waking to the theater is the best possible option, I hate him. We walk east, side by side. He is on the left, and I on the right. It’s a Saturday night, so the streets are flooded with people having a good time. James walks with a pep in his step. He glides so smoothly down the sidewalk. Damn, I love to watch him walk. The way he twists at his shoulders and the way his hips swing like he is in a constant dance. His body sways to a constant beat. It’s as if I can hear Frank in the background of him walking. His hands swing down, as do mine. His catches mine mid swing and holds it. “Stevie’s goin’ to an art show that just opened up, figured we could stop in and surprise ‘em. What do ya think pegs?” he brakes the silence. “Change of plans I suppose?”, I question a bit worried. “Nah, just a pit-stop. I promise.” He gives his damn cheesy smile. I know what will happen. We will stop in, see Steve, and he will tag along. We won’t go to the theater. We will most likely go to eat and then go back to their place, or mine if they’d like. And the entire night will then be made better by the company of our Steve. “Alright then, sounds like a plan.” I say knowingly.  
Down off Second street and the crossing of Brooklyn Ave. is a little white washed stone building. It’s small but cute. There’s two large windows that encompass the sides of the building. There is probably about eight to nine people inside. James slips in front of me and pulls the door open for me. I walk in and smile passed him. He walks up to my side and slides his arm underneath mine and across my lower back grabbing and holding my waist on the other side. With his other hand he runs his fingers through his dark brown hair and we start to walk, on step, to find Steve. There’s huge canvases of gorgeous paintings that lay across the walls of the art museum. In the center of the wall there is a blank canvas, kind of cliché. Bucky rolled his eyes at it and quickly dismisses it. We walk around and look at each individual painting. More people flood in through the doors. The last show must have just ended, the theater is only down the street. It must be getting close to nine o’clock. I look over at Bucky who has wondering eyes and I catch a glimpse of what has entrapped him seconds before a bunch of woman swarm in front of it. He lets go of my hand and walks to the painting as if it were a siren calling him. God, what could it be of? I thought to myself. I follow. He some-how manages to get to the front of the crowd of woman who are impressed by this one piece of art work. I shove my way passed the group of women who are standing in front of the canvas. I stand side by side with James and I now understand. The painting is stunning. The picture is black and white and various shades of such. It looked as if charcoal had been used. The man is sitting in a wooden chair, its stained a darker brown, the man’s back is to the viewer though the front of the chair, unseen is rested between his legs. Of his legs, only the thighs could really be viewed. He was sitting in the chair backwards, head calked sideways, enough to see the profile. There’s a medium size window on his left and a stove on his right. It looks like a small, shabby apartment. The man’s shirt is off and draped over what looks like a couch in the living room area in front of the window and there is a towel, thrown carelessly over his shoulder. The man’s hair is shoulder length and down with a slight wave to it. The stove has food on it and seems to be lit. There’s a cup of coffee on the counter next to the stove with steam coming up from it. He appears to have work pants on and his shoes are set next to him. I look in closer and I see the shirt, there’s a logo on it, it’s illegible. I look at the signature and sure enough, its Steve’s work. James is still dumbfounded. I nudge his shoulder. “I-I didn’t know Stevie was puttin’ this in here…”, he muttered. “Let’s go look for Steve”, I suggest. We look around and there are only a few people anywhere else in the building, Steve’s is the only piece on this level that is not still life or architecture. Steve is standing in front of the blank canvas. Bucky had to be dragged along. He keeps glancing back at his portrait, he had never seen it before. We approach Steve who is standing intensely in front of it. I don’t think he knew what was going on around him. He is standing in a thinking pose as he is in deep thought. “Hey kid”, Bucky says teasingly and slightly still in shock. Steve quickly snaps out of his art induced daze. “I ain’t a Fu-- Buck?! I thought you had a da-”, He realizes I am there “… Peggy…? Hello.”, He said shyly and softly. “Hello, my darling," i say in slight awkwardness, i do not think that either james or myslef completely thought this through. At my greeting Steve then began to blush and get flustered. He runs his hands through his blond hair and smiles nervously. I am not quite sure why he blushed, all I said was hello. “It’s a blank canvas…”, James said questioningly. “Yeah, I know. I’m still tryin to figure it out.” I back away from them to give them some space. They hadn’t seen each other since maybe this morning, and well, I know how they get in front of others. To my knowledge Steve is unaware of my knowledge of their situation. I leave that to James. It’s his place to talk to him. After a few minutes of James’ arm draping over Steve’s, James approaches me shyly. “So, Peggs?” I smile. I know what’s coming next. “It’s 9:15, think that uh… maybe us three could go to a park or something’, skip the movie?” of course I don’t have a problem with it because i was well prepared for it. “That’s fine.” I say. He smiled, and in that small, tiny, moment I then realized that I really do love James. I love him. I love him with all I am, but dammit, he’s Steve’s, not mine. But dammit! I love them both! Just as much. Just as equal. James’ snake like personality, his sarcasm and humor and god, Steve’s sensitivity and the way he never backs down from a fight, and everything about the both of them is just, beautiful.  
Stevie walks up to where James and I are standing. “So, did you guys like my piece?” he says it with such joy and hope of approval (mainly from James). James and I were both speechless I guess, because neither of us could find any words to express the way we felt and we both stood there and nodded. James did his side smile and Steve bit his lip. I felt awkward, but what can you do? “It was good kid, I liked it.” He says charmingly. “So, shall we?” James holds both arms out for Steve and me to hang off of.  
It took about fifteen or so minutes to walk to the park. James leads us far into the orchard that towers in the back. In the middle of the park there is a little pond with ducks that fly in it on occasion. The place where Bucky takes us is next to is a small patch of the pond and it’s almost completely enclosed in greenery. “Sorry I didn’t bring food or anything, could have made it a picnic.” James says sincerely. I don’t even know what to say to that. Steve saves the silence, “That’s okay Buck, we’re alright. We can all just kind of hang out.” Dammit! I don’t know what to say to that either. They’re both so sweet sometimes. James and Steve stand across from each other and I am standing next to Steve. James out darts out like an owl at night, and Steve was the mouse. Steve is taken to the ground, I step back a foot or so back but that does not save me from the clutches of Steve. He pulls me down on top of them. I fall on James’ back and James on Steve’s abdomen. We lay there for a minute, all relaxed. I was a bit uncomfortable, well I was, until I laid my head on James’ back and I hear the most beautiful sound I had heard since my mother’s voice. His heartbeat. I rub my hand on his back, he’s so warm. I feel a cold hand rest on my thigh, where my dress had risen a bit. I know who’s hand it is right away. It’s Steve’s. There’s a slight squeeze, and a less slight blush to follow, from both of us. It all seemed so fast after that, and my dress has a slight rip in it by the end of everything from when it was being grabbed and pulled. We laid there in the light of the moon. Both Steve and I lay in the crooks of James’ arms and rested our heads on his chest. All of us desperate to catch our breaths. James kept his coat and shirt off and draped the jacket over Stevie and the shirt over me. My dress sits at my waist all bunched up. My pantyhose are shot and I’ve no idea where my left heal is, it was all, so, worth it but i dont know if it was right. it was most definately not proper!  
James’ apartment  
I am not sure what happened after, I blame that on the lack of sleep. I woke up and we were no longer in the park, but in James’ room, in the same position we were in when I drifted to sleep. Steve didn’t seem to remember what happened either, we obviously didn’t get taken downtown for public nudity, but some-how I didn’t end up at home with my stray kitty. My internal clock wakes me up at 04:45. I look over at the boys whose bodies are entangled like the strings on a rag doll. I cuddle back into James and wrapped my free arm over James’ stomach and hold Steve’s hand that is rested over James’ heart. When I wake up hours later than I should have I am alone in their room. My head is set on their pillow and I am wearing on of James’ red flannels. though I am not disapointed, it certainly is not my nighty gown. It’s a bit big on me and it goes half way down my thighs and of course it’s unbutton, though I will credit that it was closed and wrapped around me. I stay still and listen in to see if anything juicy is going on. Nothing too incredibly juicy. I hear murmurs and giggling going on in the next room. It’s times like these that I am thankful for their small apartment. I can’t make out what James was saying but I could hear the deep, gruff voice James uses when he’s saying something blush worthy. Then silence. I think of getting up to check on them. Then seconds later… James grunts softly. I stay put. Moans shatter the silence of their apartment just gracefully enough to be heard if one is quiet enough to listen. I think I hear Steve’s moans breaking James', it’s too quiet to hear from their bed which is across the room and up against the wall. I throw the blanket off and I slip my feet down onto the chilled wooden floor. I tiptoe to the door and I get on all fours. I put my ear up to the crack at the bottom of the door and I listen in. I should'nt, but I do. The kitchen table is being banged into at a constant tempo. I move my hair from ear’s way to aid my hearing. James moans again, this time louder. A lot louder. Then it’s all over. Steve grants my ears one, last tiny squeak. I smell smoke, its makes me feel better to know that I am not the only one who fails at pancakes. I’ve learned the smell of burning pancakes by now. Though my morning of burnt pancakes is not usually caused the same way. I dash back to the bed and pretend to sleep with guilt painted over my face accompanied with my usual blush. Steve turnes the radio on, i know its Steve because James hates the damned radio show. I look over to the door and there lays both of my black heals, James is my hero. The damned bed was cold by the time I reenter the covers. From the smoky filled apartment, giggles and laughter could be well heard, from both Steve and James. With broken laughter underneath the door, “**Dammit Bucky *** now what are we gonna feed to Peggs?” “shit…well these are too far gone, run to Rosie’s? Pick up a few bear claws? I’ll make tea?” awe they do love me. I am dreading being stuck in bed... although not the worst way to spend my morning, I can however think of better ways I could have spent my morning in James’ apartment but those are inappropriate and must be kept hush hush.  
Not more than half an hour later James walks into my- his room and displays to me tea and bear-claws. Remember now, I’m asleep. I roll over into James’ pillow that’s smells an awful lot like Steve. “Peggy, I got you some bear-claws…” no, it’s not tempting enough for asleep me to wake up. “I got tea too?” oh, well, now that’s tempting enough. “I’m awake.” i say quickly followed by Steve chiming in, “now that’s the Peggs I know and …” he gets softer in tempo, it’s inaudible, but I think he said he loved me so that’s nice. I climb out of James’ bed and he turns around to go into the kitchen. I follow. We all sit at the kitchen table. I can feel the elephant room, but I am the only one who sees it apparently, because I was asleep, and that is what they will continue to believe. My mind floods with curious thoughts of their happening. Like, am I sitting where they were this morning? What did James say to begin it all? Thoughts like these must be stopped, so I change the subject of my mind, these thoughts aren’t healthy. I realized in the moment of my bear-claw thoughts, that no one was talking, and no one was eating. Glances were being shared between Steve and James, I stared blankly at the steam rising from my tea cup. “So, uh…” I feel the need to fill the awkward silence though i dont know where to begin. “how was your mornings?” Steve choked himself into an asthma attack, and James blushed harder than I had ever seen Steve blush… and Steve is Irish. Steve coughs through his answering, James finishes it for him. “Pretty okay, made some pancakes, but I guess we mixed up our recipe with yours, cuz uh… they failed.” Cold hearted bastard. That’s what’s James is. “Harsh, Bucky.” We scarf down what’s left of the giant bag of bear-claws and pastries and I sip down my tea and Steve sips James’ coffee. James acts offended once he realized that Stevie had stolen his liquid life, that he was paying no attention to anyways. He softly and playfully punches Steve’s shoulder and chuckles. The rest of the morning is relaxing.  
My apartment  
I finally make it home, later than Loki the stray kitty would have liked. I feed him and wash the couch cushions. I water my dying plants and I shower. Knowing what they did on the kitchen table makes me question the rest of the furniture I touched whilst in their apartment, not that I’m too disappointed, though I do care about hygiene. Sunday morning is usually alright. I typically go out on my dates with James on Saturday nights, sometimes he stays the night at my place, if of course we want it to go that far and I’m usually pretty tired by Sunday morning. I have work at the SSR tomorrow so I’ll call Steve up on the tele and ill debrief him for tomorrow, which I should have done on our brunch date and I will continue Sunday rest.  
Ah well it is Saturday, and I have a date with Steve in a few hours. No one has made any comments about last week, nor do I wish for them too. I can’t forget what happened but I will admit it was a bit out of character for me. I don’t wish for it to happen again and most definitely not like it did. Loki the kitty had run off a few days, he is back now and he is currently eating his wet food. I needed to go to the store yesterday and I agreed to myself that I could put it off another day. I am now eating left overs because I am out of breakfast food. I need to go to the store. Steve and I are mixing it up a bit and we are going to take a walk around the pond a few times and maybe picnic. I am bringing bread to feed the ducks. James and I haven’t really talked much this week, and I think it’s because I made things awkward for them just by being there. I don’t even know when James and I will go out again, maybe I’ll ask about tomorrow. I got my pay yesterday so I have a bit of extra money to spend. I paid the bills last payday. One thing I can always rely upon is my tea, I will never run out of that. It is 05:30. I woke up a bit later than usual and I am currently sitting and enjoying the sunrise. My mother’s birthday is this month and I am expected to host a dinner on her behalf. She will ask if I’ve written in my book and I will then be able to answer her with “yes, mother I have,” and not be lying this time. She was raised in the belief that a woman has three jobs: to be a man’s daughter, to be a man’s wife and then to be a child’s mother. I do not necessarily agree with those values, though for some women that is fine but those are not my only options. She thinks I am wasting my life away at the SSR and that I need to settle down and give her grandchildren. My brother never believed the way she did. He has always had the thought that a woman should be whatever the hell makes her happy and protected. I have always admired him for that. he is the one who always found me when i lost my way, he reminded me of my reflection when it was tainted by my own feelings, he taught me that i had value and that i needed to figure out what it was, i now know my value.  
I am not really up to going out today but I don’t want Steve to think it is because of him, so, I will go and put a smile on my face until I can come home and get my pajamas on at 4 o’clock and pretend, even for a minute, that the world does not exist. I am thinking of calling my brother, Michael today. I miss him and have not heard from him in a while. I need to catch him up on all of the “Steve and James” drama that has gone on in the past few weeks. He likes James and thinks that he is nice but he also thinks that Steve is better for me because he will let me be free and work and that he won’t burn my light out like most men would. Not saying that James would do that, but that Steve specifically wouldn’t. I do hope that Michael comes with my mother for the dinner, I can’t handle her alone for long periods of time and he always knows what to say to calm her down. It helps that he is her favorite child. He was lucky enough to want to pursue the dreams and goals my mother had planned for him, with the exception of settling down and having children. He plans to adopt one day. He says that there are too many children without homes to bring more children into the world. He isn’t too into the dating scene but sometimes a pretty gal comes along and he likes to take her out for some supper. After a few weeks they’re usually over with.  
Sorry if I am boring you with petty details, I have nothing going on in my life this week. Lokitty loves his new bed I got for him. He has started to move into my home. He is the only solid man in my life, though he is completely against me working, or going out at all, or well doing anything that doesn’t revolve around him. micheal says he is like most other men. I do need a trim sometime this week. My split ends are growing out.  
Well, I have officially killed half an hour of time writing in my journal. I wonder how Steve’s doing. My mother is expecting me to have a date for her birthday party and I am thinking about inviting Steve as my date seeing as he is more than a fling. Well, at least I hope so. I am still debating on whether or not to invite James. I don’t think my mother cares for him as much. I don’t know, should I? I’m not obligated to invite him. Right? We aren’t courting or anything. However, where ever Steve goes his little lamb is sure to follow.  
It 06:15, and I don’t even know when we are going to the park. Steve said he would call me when he woke up and was on his way so I could meet him there. I don’t even know what’s going on with me and James. I don’t know where we stand, or even if we stand anywhere else outside of the bedroom. I am beginning to get bored of the same old dance with him, and that’s not good. We are stagnated and I don’t have the time to waste when I could be focusing on someone whom I love and who I know loves me back. I am thinking that James and I need to have a long chat, and if it goes the way I am imagining it, then, well it will be the end of our fling. Unfortunately, because I do love James, but I know that James will always choose Steve and I respect that.  
In the midst of me thinking, the tele rings and interrupts. I hear it from outside on my patio. I have the sliding glass door open a bit to let some cool morning air into the home. The door is through the kitchen and the phone is above the counter top. I get up and go inside. I set my book down and answer it at its third ring. I didn’t think Steve was up this early. I answer.  
Great, so update: that was my brother on the phone, Michael is not coming to my mother’s birthday party, and he will not be here in town for the next few months, which means on top of my mother’s birthday, he will also miss mine. I think it is time for a mental breakdown. I just need someone and I probably don’t even have a chance with Stevie and I am breaking up with James, which is my own doing I suppose but damn it hurts. I can’t call Michael, he is needed elsewhere and I would much rather talk to him in person anyhow. It is just better that way. He always hold me when I need him too, and he just makes things better. God Why does my life suck right now? I really could use a drink. At least I have my kitty. it is times like these that i need to remind myself of who i am, and tht i am a stong, indapendant women who can handle things, right?  
Unexpected visitor  
There's a humming vehical that seams to stop across the street from my residence, i walk inside and set my tea cup down on the counter, i make my way to the window in the front and i peek the curtains open to see an auto with tinted windows is parked outside my drive. I have never seen it before, but you know what thye say "once you've seen one auto you've seen them all. A tall slender gentleman, with dark, curly brown locks steps out from the auto placing a hat upon his head. he is quite the man! by this point, i know exactly who it is! i run out, leaoing into his arms, heals and all. My michael catches me, of course. He offers his arm to me and we walk into the house.  
“Hey Margie, how how are you?" “I’m better now." I pull his arm and drag him into the living room and shove him onto the couch, I ran into the kitchen and put a pot of tea on for him. “Two lumps of sugar, right Michael?” he hollers “yes please,” back to me. I can’t believe he is even here. “You said you couldn’t make it in time for mother’s birthday dinner.” “No, Margie what I said was I wasn’t going to be catching the train I needed to get here on the 14th, you misheard.” “I most certainly did not mishear! You told me you weren’t coming and then apologized for the inconvenience!” “well I am here earlier than expected, sorry for the inconvenience Margie.” I swear I want to hit him sometimes, but I will nudge the urge aside because nothing else matters right now, in this moment, because my Michael Is here, right now, in my living room! He knows he did not make an inconvenience of himself, he has just lost is plot or something. The tea kettle screams and I pour his cup. I use the same cup I give him every time he is here. I have dubbed it “Michael’s cup.” It is white and more round shaped with beautiful blue Chinese patterns on the outer side of it. I haven’t seen him in months, but, however we chat all the time.  
We sit and talk for a while. I tell him all about last weekend with the boys in the park and, get this, he says he isn’t even shocked. Like it’s my natural behavior or something. We laugh, and I cry… a lot. Loki likes him, he sat on his lap the entire time. We sit and chat for I don’t know how long and the dreaded phone rings. It’s Steve. I was less excited than I should have been and I felt bad, but I hadn’t seen Michael in a while. “Michael?” “time for a date, Margie?” “…I can cancel-,” “you will not! If you plan on ever getting married you must stop with canceling on perfectly fine dates for ridiculous reasons. I will be here when you get back and it’s with Steve, so I’m not too concerned about you staying out all night, because well you’re too chicken for that to ever happen.”  
Had he been paying attention, he would know that i am not afraid to stay out all night. I go and get dressed for my date, leaving Michael with a dirty look. He is right, but that is not the point. Loki usually follows me to my room, but this time he stayed on Michael’s lap.  
The future within the past  
I get dressed in a yellow sundress and flats, nothing too spontaneous. When I go out into the living room Steve is on the couch chatting with Michael. Great, I will never leave for my date now. Steve looks really nice. Not too fancy, but not too shabby either. He has a plaid blanket folded and it is set on the coffee table under a picnic basket with goodies inside. I am gradually getting more and more excited about my date with Steve. He really is a sweetheart. “Peggs, if ya wanted we could just picnic here so you can spend some more time with your brother.” I love him. Damn I was looking forward to the park now. “Whatever you’re wanting to do Steve.” I give Michael a dirty look, I know what he is thinking and it is not worth vocalizing if he ever wants to use his vocal cords again. He takes note to my look but like most other times he speaks up, I was ready to strike him. “Nah, I think she really wants to go out to picnic.” “If you don’t mind,” I said. He looks relieved about that. I think he was looking forward to the date as much as I am. Michael stays back and Steve heads towards the door. I smile, not sure if I should be doing this, but I am any ways. We flag down a cabbie. I have been gaining more confidence as we get closer to the park. I keep looking over at Steve who never ceases to blush in my direction. There wasn’t much talking during the ride but, Steve did place his hand down on the seat for me to take it, he smiles and holds my hand dominantly. His hands were clammy. He, like always, is flustered and frantic. I have known him four and a half years now and he has not changed, well other than his size. The cabbie pulls up in front of the same park that we went to on our last date. I was in the middle of grabbing my purse, when Steve, who is tangled up with the large weaved picnic basket, decides to attempt opening my door for me, from the inside of the back seat. He pushes the basket aside. It is now only half on his lap and shoved into the door. He reaches over me to try to get to my door handle. “I got it pegs!” he says determined. His shirt then catches on the basket and tares slightly. The basket starts to dump over in my direction, he attempts to catch it, and he manages to stop most of the lunch from falling onto my lap. It was all in containers, thankfully. He stammers to pick it up, then pushes the basket aside once again, then holds it, reaches over me and opens my door on the inside, simply for it to close again before I could catch it. He holds his head in his hands. “It’s alright Steve, try again, I can wait.” He smiles up at me from his palms that are still held up to his face. “You’ll wait?” “Yes, I will. I promise.” He knows that i ama capeable woman and he tries to respect that, and let me be indapendent. i like it, though i dont mind a gentleman being kind and respectable either. steve opens his door and the basket starts to fall out of the auto, into the street. He catches the basket, thankfully. I don’t know what he would do if it all fell out, poor thing. He walks around the car and pays the cabbie from the window. He walks back a few steps and opens my door for me. I step out and I take the basket from him. I think we were both thankful for that. I have the picnic basket draped over my left arm and soon I will have Steve draped over my right. With tainted buildings towering on our right and a field of trees whispering on our left. we walk and we observe. Children are at play, mothers fixing hurt knees of their children. Couples walk around the pond, they sit, eat, giggle and even share kisses. I almost envy what they have, but I am too young for children. This is not something that I want to be thinking about in the presence of, well, Steve. He’ll think I’m odd, or worse, he’ll like the idea! I should try and think about something else but what? We walk over a little hill, we cannot see the other side until we reach the peak. In the distance a child cries, quietly, almost a whimper. I look around and see a little boy who is curled into a tiny ball. He has been pummeled to the ground by kids twice his size. I see the boys run off and they’re too far gone to stop. I look around to see if there is any sign of his parents, there’s no mother to aid him, no father to defend him and there isn’t anybody else to be seen. I do a full spin around to just to double check and something seams out of the ordinary. I see Steve. He has made his way over to the little boy. He squats down at the little boy’s side and ruffles his hair. He is calming him. His words are inaudible to me, though to the little boy they speak millions. The little boy about eight or nine years old. He has brown hair and he is wearing overalls with a red stripped shirt underneath. He is beautiful. I remain on the hill to let Steve work his fraternal magic. I then see a woman come up to the boy’s side disapprovingly. From where I stand, this seems as if it’s a recurring event and that this little boy knew what to expect. Steve doesn’t remove himself from the situation, nor does it seem right that, that man should. The little boy pleads his case “momma I tried to stop “em! They were pickin’ on him and they just wouldn’t stop, momma! I had to help him!” he cries into her skirt and tries to stammer his way out of groundation. He reminds me of what I imagine Steve was like as a child. I peer in closer and the woman seams familiar. Her hair is pulled back into a long ponytail. She seems about ten or so years older than I am now, in this moment. There are wrinkles and bags at her eyes. She seems to be at her peak. She knows what she is doing, she is wise and knows the ropes of motherhood. She rubs his back and I take notice to the ring on her finger. It’s not something that’s uncommon, obviously, but I also take notice to the way Steve defends the little boy, as if he has done this for the past- ten years. I look in closer and the woman is unimpressed with his defense, she finds it silly. The brown-haired woman looks respectable, she is wearing a modest dress with quarter sleeves and a rosy apron still tied in the back but folded over in the front. In this moment I realize that I have been acquainted with my future. Or at least a future that does not disappoint me. I become light headed and I close my eyes for a second, I look up and see Steve at the child’s side still comforting him, he relates to the boy. The woman is gone, like she was never there. I am not close to them nor can I hear anything they are saying but I see Steve make fists and fight pretend people and then I see the boy doubled over in laughter. I smile at the thought of a future with him. Steve utters something and the little boy points off in the distance to what looks like a mother and father who are completely over worked and have their hands full with two mid-teenagers and a toddler. Thus, showing the other side of the motherhood glow. Steve escorts the little boy to his family and explains what he saw. They nod at him and accept his explanation. Steve makes his way back to me. I haven’t moved from my spot. Thinking about it, it looked rather nice. There was a large oak tree that we could rest under and it was nice and sunny not to mention the overlooking view. I place the blanket down and Steve jogs his way to me, helping me in my time of struggles. “The blanket always wins. It’s my enemy!” I say maliciously as I roll onto the blanket that Steve had just laid out ever so nicely. He chuckles and lays next to me. We are both relaxed. At least I am. He rested his hand next to mine and I take it willingly. I had the sudden urge to tell him how I felt, but the words got caught inside of my throat. I swallow and push through the anxiety. {I can’t believe that I’m doing this} I remember thinking to myself. “Steve?” I break his concentration. “yeah?” “I love you…a lot.” I close my eyes, thinking that I had betrayed my body and would regret vocalizing those very words. I release my breath that I held captive within my lungs. I felt relieved, I think that I had betrayed myself for not saying it sooner. “yeah?” he said excitedly. I turn my head to meet his eyes. “yeah.” “Peggs?” “hmm?” “I love you too…”  
Tea for three  
I thought it would be a good idea to walk home. It would, at least give us a chance to talk. He decided to hold the basket as he confidently held my hand as we walked down the street. We approached my doorstep, Steve set the basket down on the top step and takes both of my hands. He bites his lip. “I’m either gonna regret this, or swear to do it every day.” His lips tasted like honey, his hands still clammy. I tried to pull my hands away but he wouldn’t let them go. He smiled, ever so softly. His eyes fell into me. He was looking into my eyes, pealing open into my soul, I swear he saw the way my heart pounded up against the inside of my rib cage. My stomach hollowed out. In that moment he saw everything I was and everything that was shielded by my flesh. With a simple, small breath Steve stole every ounce of air that dwelled within me. We have kissed before, hell we’ve done more, but not like this, not without James being present. Just me and Steve. I got to be kissed by Steve and Steve alone. My lips meeting his lips in private. He smiled in the same way James smiles at him. He bit his lip again after peering into the color of my eyes. “So, Steve? Which is it?” I said shakily. “Huh?... oh!” he got cut off by an ecstatic “YES!” from the other side of the window next to the door. Steve turns around and smiles at my brother proudly. Michael taps on the window with his knuckle and waves for us to come inside. Steve reaches down and grabs the basket and blanket and he opens the door for me. I step inside to find three tea cups placed on the dining room table with their designated saucers on top of the cups to help the steeping process. Two candles dressed the table with their ambiance, the lights were turned off. Steve steps up beside me. I look around the room and there are lit candles everywhere. The Victrola plays “tea for two,” I laugh at humor of there being three tea cups placed. I think he plans on staying with us. “Michael, what’s this?” I ask. “your dining room… oh, you meant the three cups, well it’s a minute until tea time, so I figured I could have it ready for you, but if you want to have a date part two, you can… show me the way to go home…” it takes Steve a minute to notice the joke made but after a minute of me pinching the bridge of my nose he finally understood the reference. Steve takes the basket over and sets it on the floor out of the way. He walks over to the table and pulls out a chair, he smiles my way. I go over and I sit down. A timer goes off and Michael rushes to the kitchen and comes out with a steaming plate of scones. He places the tray on the table and grabs the tea cup that has not yet been claimed. He starts to walk the other way. He scoots passed the back of my chair and on his way, I grab his shirt and pull him back. “you made the scones and tea, you get to eat the scones and drink the tea. That’s the rule.” “Since when is that a rule?!” “Since I just said so.” He sits at my demand. I am the queen and I will be obeyed. Steve simply giggled at my triumph. The room was all so romantic, well almost romantic. I didn’t mind it though. I have got my favorite men sitting at my table drinking tea with me. I am content. I pull a warm scone from the plate and place it on my saucer that I had just pulled from the top of my cup. The condensation from the tea left drops on the bottom of the plate. I took my napkin that had been placed with the set up, and I dried the bottom and set the tea cup in its place. I broke my scone in half and it flaked apart. More steam billowed from the center of the pastry. Crumbs fell and my eyes focused on that as I fell into my dreamscape. Steve held the cup and stared into the details painted. Michael has yet to grab a scone but he fingers the rim of the teacup, caressing its curves and edges as if it were a lover. we all sat in silence. Very awkward silence. Steve and I kept looking up at each other. Our eyes would meet and then they would drift away bashfully. Very dryly and sarcastically Michael comments, “Wow. The sexual tension is rising quickly. How-ever are you two controlling yourselves?” He stares blankly at Steve and I with a dead serious face, as we have said nothing nor is there sexual tension. Steve chokes after a second on contemplating what was just spoken. I am not amused… much. Michael stands up and grabs two scones from the plate and puts it on his saucer next to his cup. “I’ll just leave you two to your uncontrollable mating.” I can’t help but give a slight smirk at that comment. He walks behind my chair. I lean my head back to look up at him, not that he doesn’t tower over me when we are both standing. He leans down and kisses my forehead. He walks down the hallway and reaches the guest bedroom.  
It’s about eight thirty now. Steve and I have downed the entire pot of tea that was made and we scarfed the scones. Michael likes to sleep, so we were careful to be quiet. We clean up the house and put things away. As we clean my Andrew Sisters album still plays in the background. The entire night we smiled and laughed and joked around. We were able to be ourselves, and I loved it. I felt no guilt about Bucky not being there. Now, not feeling guilty did make me feel guilty, ironically enough. I did think of him throughout the night, I can’t deny that. I do love him, but the one that helps you finish the pot of tea is usually the forever love. Not that Bucky isn’t Steve’s forever love, or the one that I will love forever, but I get to have a chance to have him to myself before he is manhandled by James on the kitchen table.  
I go to the kitchen and start on scrubbing the dishes. My hips sway at the sound of the music. I feel my Stevie place his hands on my waist, which I love, and he leans up against me and sways to the music with me. His chest is pushed completely against my back and he rested his chin on my shoulder. His breath whispers across my bare neck and send chills down my spine. My back arches with the chills and he moves his hand beneath my breasts and pulls me back into him firmly." little close there, Steve." i whisper softly. I feel his lips grin at my response. He chuckles, and I feel it in the pit of my stomach. I get my placing by putting my soapy, wet hands on the edge of the counter. He moves his other hand above the first, his thumb in the middle of my chest and his elbows locked, holding me in place. He bites his lip, I don’t have to see him to know he bit his lip, he always bites his lip. My neck starts to feel warm, his lips are gently dancing across my skin. His teeth join, forming a duet, his tongue joins making it a trio, and his hands push me into him even tighter. We continued to sway at the music. He lifts one hand from beneath my breasts and moves the hair from my neck if only to vacate my skin for his own sinful desires. Without a beat to be skipped he places his hand back where it was originally, on my waist. He takes both hands and makes them meet below my stomach only to drag them back to my waist again, stimulating the butterflies within my abdomen. His trio has not stopped their interpretational dance on my neck, they did however speed up their rhythm. My heart joins their dance and pumps at a rapid pace. Between his breath and my heart, I can no longer hear the music being played in my dining room. We have created our own melody to dance to. Our heart strings have been intertwined and with Steve’s nimble fingers, he plays them in such ways that I did not think would be possible for me. He moves his artists hands to just beneath my neck, between my collar bones and very softly pushes and slides his hands across my chest and holds my shoulders for just a second and moves his hands to the base of my throat. "i- thought you couldn't dance-?" i say slightly chocking on my own butterflies. The duo gives my neck a break and he gives angelic pecks on my shoulder that soon after shift into devilish kisses, scraping his teeth along my skin. "just needed the right partners- i guess." He proves that there is always, always a bit of a dark side in every piece of light no matter how pure it may be perceived. It is the night that makes the sun seem ever so warm on your skin. Though he blushes at everything, this kid has seen the darkest slums of the city, he knows his ways through the gutter, he has slept in the streets of harlom, and been beaten all through the dirty bronx. He is an artist. He knows what to look for, he knows what is pleasing. He places one hand on the other on my stomach, and with his body he pushes me into the counter just a little bit more than I already was. He makes sure there are no atoms filling any space between his shirt and my dress. His body pushing into me causes my dress ever so slightly to lift above my knees. He rests his chin on my neck again and rather than returning to the much-wanted duet of his lips and tongue, he pecks, once and snuggles his head into my neck and smiles. Lokitty leaps onto the counter and startles Steve back. My hands still holding my weight against the edge of the counter, I laugh, I saw him prowl into the kitchen. Steve didn’t find it as funny as I did. I, still laughing, get pulled around by my arm and shoved into the counter. I catch myself, after I was against the counter and I place my hands where they were, but backwards. He places his hands right outside of mine and he leans into my body. His chest not more than an inch from mine. His arms at a 90-degree angle, holding his weight above me. It’s not fair, he teases me with his malevolent eyes. I want to break beneath him, only an inch stands in the way. His stern face fades into his soft, kind eyes. He gives a half smile and then run his teeth over his lips. His grip on my newly dented counter loosens and with one hand he slides it to my back and pulls me into him, softly. He leans his head down and starts to kiss at my neck again. His tongue and teeth steal the show as he feels every nerve in my throat. My breath is shallow, but steadied. My elbows break with the pressure. They wobble and fall to my side as his mouth takes over my body. My arms, with a mind of their own, wrap around his lower back lifting beneath his shirt feeling his bare skin. His mouth seems to get hungrier and hungrier as he feasts on me ever so gently. With his free hand he raises it to my face and holds my cheek where he wants it placed. His teeth retreat but his tongue and lips are ever so persistent. He slides his other hand from my back to my side and holds me in place, not that I plan on moving. He pauses his kissing and he shifts. His eyes meet mine, much like they have all day and he leans in tenderly and he dances his lips against mine. He sucks the already shallow breath from my mouth, his tongue introduces itself to me and makes acquaintance with my teeth. My mouth was ever weakened by the poison of his sweet tasting lips. His hand on my cheek slides into my hair and nests itself deep within my locks. He sashays his hips against mine and rests his eyes kindly. The lids of his eyes flutter down as the Victrola’s music becomes louder. The record has been changed, I look passed Steve and focus my eyes across the room, in the far corner, where the music is flaunting from. Michael stands there with a soft smirk on his face, I should be appalled, I should be trying to kill him, but the sound of Frank Sinatra playing at the beat of Steve’s hips, was oh, so satisfying. Steve calmly moves his hands to my hips to gain his own placing as he glides across me to the music. He rests his chest against mine, finally. I rest my head in the crook of his neck, he rest his head on top of mine. He slides his hands to my lower back and he leads them down into the “dangerous territory zone.” I let him. He takes up my hands the moment the song changes. He leans in to my ear. “Why should I try to resist?” He sings to me before the lyrics even begin. His hips begin to rock compassionately with mine as we sway moving our foot placing a little at a time. “I’ve got you under my skin.” He sashays his hip more dramatically. “I’ve got you…deep in the heart of me.” He bites his lower lip playfully. “So deep in my heart that you’re really a part of me…I’ve got you… under my skin.” I chime in. I feel the switch in his heartbeat. Its sounds in accordance to his hips, or much rather, his hips move in accordance to his heartbeat. He releases my hands long enough to pull up on his suspenders and drop them to his side and shove his sleeves to his elbow. My breath grows heavier and deeper. I look back passed Steve once again and I make sure that Michael has made himself scarce. I would die if he were to see me dance. We move completely from the sink. The dishes will have to wait a bit longer. We awaken every strip of wood that is placed beneath us on the kitchen floor. Steve is not yet tired, but not energized either. He backs away from me, holding my right hand and he spins me out and pulls me into him. I gain the sudden urge to kiss him. He kisses back. We break our joined breaths as he twirls me three or four times beneath his upheld arm. My dress poofs up as if I were in a fairytale and he my prince… a Brooklyn prince with the mouth a sailor, but a prince none the less. The second I reunite with him fully he lays me into a dip. As my head is thrown back and his arms holding my weight at my lower back, he leans in. “Been wantin’ to do that for a while.”  
Parts of his body have been awakened by the shared sensuality but others have been nurtured to a calm state. I get to my room first and I push my door open and lead Steve in. he shuts it behind him. I turn around towards him and I am able to wrap my arms around his neck softly. My hands hang from my relaxed wrists. I yearn to spend more time with his lips. They call to me seductively and with an impure objective. I can’t help but answer and give into the desires. We idly kiss and he leads me to my bed where the mound of laundry remains after all this time. i choose option two and shove them to the floor to be delt with later. he pics up on his little dance as his arms are held above my head, he positions himself lower, leans his head down and dot...dot....dot.  
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He rolls over onto his back, resting beside me. Our hearts pound at the inside of our bodies, wanting to greet the other in person. They march on the same cadence. Our chests both heaving, our bodies both limp. We hold hands. His are still clammy, but that’s okay, because so are mine. “Love ya Peggy.” He utters in the midst of us catching our escaping breaths. I laugh. Not because of what he said, but because after all that, this is the first thing he thought to say to me. I can’t erase the grin from my face. “I love you.” I use what is left of my energy to mount him only for the purpose of kissing him and I failed. He moved just right and I started to fall. I hold onto him as I go down and he followed on top of me. I hit my head on my night stand and the lamp came crashing down off the side. I couldn’t think of anything else to do but burry my head in his chest and laugh hysterically. We lay there for a while before deciding to get up and go shower off real quick like.  
For the soul purpose of saving on water we decide to shower together. I grab two towels from the closet and set it on the back of the toilet. I warm the shower up and step in as Steve relieves himself. He joins right after. We rest under the hot water for a few minutes. He pulls me into his chest, and I wrap my arms around his back. He kisses the top of my head before resting his head on it. After about five or so minutes Steve reaches for the bar soap that was setting on the tray behind me and starts to lather my back up. I could almost swear he used it as an excuse to feel me up, almost,but i think he is too sweet for that. The thing about Steve is that everything, and nothing are both sexualized and not sexualized at the same time. He is a man of the arts. He sees the world in so many different colors and pastels. He views the body as a canvas. A blank canvas is not an empty canvas because it is so full of potential. He sees the beauty in everything, he has trained himself to do such. So, when Steven Grant Rogers feels something, or touches something, just know he is looking much deeper than the surface, he is seeing it for everything that it is worth, and if it is worth nothing, you can be damned sure Steve will make it worth everything.  
After he has sufficiently coated the area of my body with lavender soap suds I wrap my arms around him once more to cover his chest with soap I pull back with a cheesy smile. He reluctantly hands me the soap after insisting that he can do it. I hadn’t had to say a word to him. I take the bar of soap and I have fun with it. I cover his body, and I mean cover. I made sure to spend extra attention to his chest, which i have always loved. i lathered him all up with soap- everywhere, now, I don’t want to further this into too much detail about the matter, but at least we were in the shower at the time. After our shower, we dried off and headed to bed. It was nice, he snuggled me the entire night. I have no idea what time it is right now but I’m guessing it’s a safe bet that I will not be waking up at my usual scheduled time. I fall asleep wrapped in my towel. Stevie did not seem to mind it. He kept me in it all night. As soon as our heads hit the pillow we were completely done for the night.  
We wake up the next morning to the forbidden smell of coffee being brewed in my very home. I am offended. Stevie is awake by the time I wake up. I am not sure as to how much longer he was awake for. I look up at him and he smiles down at me. His hand was threaded through my hair. I snuggled my face into his arm. He only held me tighter. I glance over to where my lamp had mysteriously fallen and the glass was all cleaned up and It looked freshly vacuumed. I don’t quite understand how the hell we slept through that, but I do know that I love my brother. I don’t really have any desires to get out of bed right now. Lokitty is curled up on top of my hip. I give him a pat on the head and a run through his tail. I was shocked by how he didn’t wake me up to feed him. I wonder if a certain brother knows anything about that. I should hire him as a housewife, on second thought, maybe that’s not the best idea. Stevie and I cuddle for a while longer. We dread having to wake up and get up, but I smell breakfast! I love when Michael stays over. He gets his nickers in a twist when all I eat is “out.” He feels the dire need to feed me this food called “healthy,” so I don’t die young and can pop out a few children for him to love and watch and spoil or something, i guess.  
about an hour after we woke up, by the way that hour was called eleven o'clock, i continued on dishes, it's the one thing that michael simply will not do. james had called to see where steve was, and he had gotten no answer- i didnt mean to, but now i have a pissed off sergeant and thats never a good senario. when my brother answered the phone, well james didnt recognise his voice and he got angry and protective and gave poor old Michael an ear full. but if i know my brother he took it with a grain of salt and handled it calmly. see barnes gets jealous over people who care about steve in a more than friendly way, men especially. They dont have to be more than a few feet from Rogers for james to go army sniper on them. Breakfast was fantastic, wld berry pancakes, he has enheireted the entire gene of pancake making and fresh organge juice. one day Michael will make the perfect house wife. My brother reminds you of Mr. Jarvis, in the way that he is kind hearted and loyal, he is slow temperted. he always chooses his words wisely and always knows what to say at the right moment- he is not like my mother in that way. her aspirations for me were for me to become a civilized lady and not a man in pumps. her philosophie was that we should allow all men to hold open our doors- "even if theyre only doing it to cop a feel?" i'd always ask, she was never thrilled with my witty sence of humor.  
i am currently sitting on the couch with micheal in the chair in front of the fire place and steve on the other end of the couch. he is elbow deep in a scetch pad and my nose deep in this scarlet journal that i am growing fond of. my mothers birthday dinner is a week from today and i am expected to cook, that way to ensure she has something to say. dont get me wrong, i love my mother to pieces- it is just that her little girl, isnt a littler girl anymore and i think that upsets her. she doesnt approve of me being sweet on two men. it not a common thing, well not for us women. double standards- what a blessed thing. anyways, i need to buy a new dress, one that will please my mother. i need to figure out what the hell i am cooking, and more importantly- how. if my mother has been correct about one thing its that i should have learned to cook years ago, maybe then id make some decent pancakes for steve. we sit for a good hour without speaking to each other as we partake in our oun lazy day activities. mikey is sipping in a cup of tea and writing, though its different from mine. michael preferes work that can be published. not more than a few minutes after the hour the tele rings again. its most likely james. i close my journal and answer the call.  
sure enough it was, he was far from happy and on his way over to give me his whole rant personally. "how dare i keep his steve out past his bedtime and not let him know." we go through that whole process, steve was uncomfortable and Michael was trying his hardest not to laugh. it really wasnt funny. james took steve home practically by the scruff and steve followed naturally. i didnt have much to say, well i did but i know when to keep my mouth shut. i didnt want steve paying for my temper. there are quite a few things that i could have said but i understand where james is coming from. anything could have happened and the serum doesnt magically change that nor does it change james worrying about him. thats one thing i can respect about him, he really cares for steve and wil not let any one forget it. i am no exception to the rule. i worry for steve too but i know what its like to have every door held open for you.  
my mothers dinner, yay.  
i love my mother, i love my mother, i love my mother. i started and ended the day with schnapps. she wasnt pleased that my brother came out a week early but she quickly got over it when she found that i had no date to the dinner. "margaret, you will never get married and reach your full potention if you cant stick to one man, or any man." i just wated it to end and i wanted to go to sleep 1500 times while she was there. now again dont get me wrong, my mother has been there for me through everyting and there will never be another woman who understands me the way she does and she raised me to be me and to be wonderful and id like to think that am. she married young and had my brother and for that alone shes the best woman alive, but she drives me up the bloody wall, im sure i do the same for her. we do get along and she always compliments the tea- at least theres that. she complimented my decor which was nice but she was a bit bent when i wasnt "reaching my full potential" by having my chair pulled out for me. i did cook. i made baked chicken with some grilled vegetables, she seamed okay with it. she called me an alcoholic and implied that i was a harlot. i bit my tounge so hard it bled. the wine however helped. i was thrilled when her bed time neared- then she dashed all of my hopes by staying the night. i am happy to have her, but i cannot disapoint her with breakfast- so rosies it is, i had decided. next time i need a date for my mothers arrival i will be calling stark, because unfortunatly he is my best option. my mother likes steve but i think hes on groundation with james for a while. its in my best interest to just lay low of either of them for now. any ways... so she shows up and right away she points out crap grass growing in a small patch under the drain pipe. i ignored her but then the second we got inside it was correction after correction followed by "im teaching you to be a good wife Margaret so stop complaining." ive been in "wife training" since i was 3. i just would like to finish this day but im so entrapped in writing as of late. i really dont know what to do about the boys. its been a week and neither of them have talked to me, and i work with steve. he wont look at me i dont know what james said but ill never become that mother i saw at the park, not with steve. god ill be stuck with stark for the rest of my damned life. i dont know that i can handle that. i dont think that i could go to my brother with this, he was there but he didnt even take it seriously so i dont think he will now. i think that i should just go to bed and throw this damned diary thing away.  
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Well, i havent thrown this away. its been aprox three weeks since my last entry. james came by a few days after i vowed to never write again. god id have to be pretty deserate to go to stark for a date. james came in and we talked for hours. we discussed everything that both of us are feeling and we were blunt about it i made my points and he made his. we talked about steve, yes, but we talked about us. and where we sand. we agreed that it would be best for us to not be standing anywere without steve. steves fine, he just got a stern talking to and well i dont know much more than that. he seams fine. i guess they decided that steve wouldnt talk to me until james got the chance. steve and i have gone out twice these past few weeks and thats basically it. im at the ssr office nothing too pressing has been going on. chief is currently out and i am in charge if the phones... and more importantly, lunch. im thinking of bailing early. i passed steve today- they had him in office, which is a nice surprise. he greated me with a kiss on my cheek, in front of others. we act more lovey in front of the agents beause of his relationship with james, it masks...them. but thats not all i want to be. i want to be with steve, not their body guard whilst they waltz in a mascarade. i am not a babysitter- i love them but at what cost? my dignity? ive worked hard for that. i get pecks on my cheek in the day all the while james gets to be the right partner, the end of the line, and all in between. i love steve, i do. i promise i do. i know that i am not Barnes, nor will i ever be close. i also know that steves mom sarah was a lovely woman who raised a wonderful man who was a hero long before the damned super serum, he got it from her. take my word on that, he was a hero while his mom was in the hospital with T.B ad he stayed by her side through the risks. he was a hero when they had no food and he brought her his portions while she was in bed and didnt know to what extent that they were emptied. at the begining of the season they had enough food to last, but by the end- the mice had gotten to whatever they could. i know that steven grant rogers was a hero when his father died and when he did what he could to protect and comfort his mother. so when i say that i loved steve before the serum, this is what i mean. i loved him before he was noticed. i loved him before the granade. and i love him still. he deserves the world so i understand why hed chose barnes- but he hasnt. if he only loved james he wouldnt bother kissing me infront of the agents, he wouldnt bother with our dates- or the dance lessons or the flowers- or any of it.  
He finally gets a brief moment in between calls and he comes over to sit on my desk to chat with me. it was a nice suprise. i definately needed to see him and hear his voice. i asked him if he wanted to go out tonight and he declined- which means him and barnes are going out on a date, and thats fine too. itll give me some bonding time with my stray cat and some time to do a few pieces of laundry that i have to do so my dresses dont wrinkle.  
Well its tonight. I'm in my nighty. This is all basically my life. On again off again with not one, but both boys all while I deal with the double standard society and the chief breathing down my neck. ill keep you updated should anything else change but i doubt it. It's never different and I highly doubt it will change now.  
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theres a huge mission going on and we all need to be blood tested before we fly accross the Atlantic to a third world country to make sure we arent bringing anything back- we will be tested before we leave and when we get back and then they will analize the samples etc. and see what/ if anything has changed and then any agent with a change will go through quarantine and be assesed. no one ever catches anything. this is a huge opportunity for me. steve had to back me up for me to go, i usually would not have allowed it but i really wanted to go. limited spots on the team and i needed one, desperately.  
all of our agents going on the plane are in line to have our blood tested. im first one in so they can have me be the first one out. im setting the example for these ladies so they feel worse when they cry over a needle. i sit and they take my blood and then everyone elses' and thats that. we get ready to leave by 0500 the next morning. im all packed and ready to go. all the labs checked out- otherwise they would have stopped us. oh wait..they did. "carter dont step foot on that plane!" i turn around in shock with steve right beind me. "allowing a woman is gutsy Carter- but a pregnant woman? who the hell are you trying to fool Agent?" Excuse me what? I am afraid I dont know what to say at this point- I have no clue- really. I didnt know. I was at a complete loss for words. I can't even imagine what steve was thinking. God what is he thinking? I was not planning on having children for at last 10 years. "Sir?" That's about all I can mutter. "Peggs?" Steve questions. "Sir, I dont- I mean- I'm not-" I could not get a proper sentance out to save my life. "You're not going carter, that's final." At this point I'm the farthest from worried about this trip. There has to be a mistake. Thomson walks away, he is a bit uneasy- as we all are.  
From there i kiss steve goodbye without sharing words and I go for a walk-in appointment to get a second opinion, though SSR tests are seldom wrong. I need to be sure. If theres a mistake, I need to know. At this point I could feel myself growing faint. I can't possibly be with child. God my mother is going to kill me if this checks out. She wanted a granchild- but not like this, not out of wed.  
I, currently, am at home alone. Steve's across the world and I've no one to call. I dont even know what the right thing to do is. My mother will tell me to get married- then she'll spend the next 5 weeks in my spare bedroom. I'm sorry... I don't know that I can do this right now. I'm going to be fired. God- I need to get a job- God I need to be a mother. this is all happening way too fast. Logging this is strenuous and I think that I need to go to bed for now.  
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Well the tests checked out. I am indeed pregnant and I know whose it is. There is really only one possiblity- trust me I know this. I know, I know, I've been with both of the boys, but it can only be the one. Steve's the only one that can- Well thanks to these blood tests I know that one: I am with child, by only a few weeks. two: I have some serious growing up to do if I am going to be a mother, and three: I need to talk to Steve. Now if you, or anyone thinks that I am getting married because of one bastard child- you are all sadly mistaken. of course i love Steve, but I am not going to propose marraige to him because of this. Not to mention James, but I cannot get into that right at this point.  
The mission soon ends and Steve comes over straight away to talk with me. I don't know what I was expecting of him but when I opened the door he rushed in passed me and sat down, then stood up again in a fit of anxiety. I find my way to the kitchen where I steep a cuppa tea for him. I hadn't quite figured out what I was going to say to him- not from lack of trying, everything that I thought up sounded either cliche or just plan silly. Though I hadn't figured it out my mouth and brain had it all figured out. "I've be-" Steve cuts me off. "Look Peggs- I want this, and I need something to go off of because I can't tell if you're happy or dissapointed-" he starts to continue and then stops mid thought. " I am happy Steve, it's just-" "It's just what Peggs?" "It's just I don't know that I'm ready for this." "Is anyone ever ready Peggy? 'Cuz my parents sure as hell weren't and you saw how great my ma turned out- and she had T.B and still took care of me." "But I'm not Sarah- and as much as it dissapoints her I'm not my mother either." "Peggs, they had it rough too, hell your ma had your brother first- practice test for the real thing when you came along." He gives me a slight smirk, it lightens the mood a bit. "Steve? I'm kind of excited too-" I admit to shyly. "Good, then it's settled." He takes his victory and grabs his cup of tea. "What exactly is settled? I didn't think much choice was given." I ask him. "That we're havin' a baby!" "okay great- but what about James?" I ask. "What about him? He'll be happy- he can't really complain, it's his fault." He smiles. The phone rings in the kitchen and I go to answer the call. It was my brother and I had some explaining to do, I have been avoiding him since I found out and I have rejected several of his calls.  
After the fact: Well he was excited for me and a bit offended that I failed to tell him fisrt that he is becoming an uncle. Fred, My ex fiancee, and I were trying but things sort of fell through and well we all know how that story goes. Long story short Mikey is coming back out to New York to see me and help me with whatever I needed, though i was persistant, he insisted that he come to help since I'm not getting married. Steve and I worked out that he is in our child's life (obviously). He is going to be great in the paternal department. Well, I don't much like rambling on such sappy subjects so I will move on in the next section of this story, Deal? Good.  
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I know I said that I would quit with the Mummy rambling, but I owe it to you to tell you about James' reacton. He said nothing- he was quiet and livid- I think. I can't tell much what he was thinking. He did, however, give me a hug and he looked saddened after he started asking whose child it belonged to. It hadn't been long since he found out about his infirtility, maybe a few months before i started writing. I don't believe that he really much wanted children until after, but you don't know what's yours until you lose it, and that's a saddening thing to lose, whether one wants it or not, the point is that now the option is closed to him. He and Steve live through each other, so this child can expect two fathers, I have no problem with that. The boys compliment each other well. This child is in good hands, his father is Captain America for God's sake- don't mention that to Steve though, or Barnes. Steve dislikes it, he wasn't noticed before and now with his same lionhearted self he is just now being noticed by the world and it's mainly for his looks. James, however, detests it. This is his Steve that the world is taking advantage of, they don't deserve him. "They didn't like him at his Steve Rogers- they don't deserve him at his Captain America," James would always say. Don't get me wrong, James is beyond proud of his accomplishments, all of them. He simply just knows what they all are, and his feelings of Steve will never change, but the only thing different about Steve is his body mass. The world knows that Steve is a hero, that he is strong, that he is a super soldier- but the world fails to see that Steve is an artist, that Steve loves walks in the park and that their super hero has faults just like the rest of us- Steves always been able to hold the weight of the world on his shoulders, it never mattered how strong he was physically and to James and myself it never will. Anyways, James seamed realived when i reasured him that he wasn't losing his Stevie bear, that's always been his main concern with me being around him. That has never been my goal, I coudn't live with myself had i caused a rift between them. For the next 6 weeks until my brother arrived, James had followed Steve by the heals into every room that I had made my way into. Every time I had begun my chorse they'd pull me back from the kitchen sink and tell me that I was going to squish 'Stucky Jr." That's what the boys staring calling it. It's a mixture of their names since they'e both decided that they conceived it together and that I am simply their serrogate. Whenever i would bend over they'd pull me up and insist that Stucky was going to be harmed. The chorse never did get done, I just wasn't allowed to do them in fear that I would hurt their baby. I went to the SSR after Michael came to stay. Chief said that I could keep my job so long as it doesn't get in the way of my work, or his and under no circumstances am I permitted to go into laybor while I am on the clock or passing through the office. After my child is born, I am also not permitted to bring he/she to work or again- anywhere around the Chief. I had absolutly no intentions of bringing my child by the office with Chief Thompsons approval, I simply won't need it. I also had no intention of Rose not seeing her new niece. She has a slight fancy on my brother- which I completely approve of. Michael doesn't know of it- he will. I will tell him first hand...on their wedding day, maybe at his bachelor party if I am feeling kind.  
Michael comes in Tuesday of next week, I have called my mother and she is beyond thrilled for me. She made light of the situation and is happy that it's Steve's baby. She likes Steve. So do I.  
Tuesday night hits and we, Bucky, Steve and myself, meet Michael at "Rosies" down the street. There we will discuss living arrangements. Steve is there first with James and Michael is late- this is a bit mixed up, Steve's only ever early when he is anxious and we had already gotten our gitters out. I walk in and sit across from the two boys. Steve seams inpatient and especially gittery. His hands and forehead seam sweaty. I do hope that he isn't coming down with anything. James looks calm and collected. Mike sways in through the doors and takes a seat like he owns the damn place. We order drinks an- my apologies, THEY order drinks- I get pop. We all sit and chat a while and then the drinks come. I sip on mine a little bit and the boys all sort of chug theirs like they're trying to drink me under the table- which, serum or not, they can't. "Peggs," Steve pipes up. "You gonna drink it?" He asks. "Well, I was planning on it. Why? Did you want to help me?" He nods akwardly and grabs the cup infront of me and takes a chug of it, downing over half of my pop. "Thanks Peg, I was a bit thirsty, I blame the serum." He adds. I nod back and take a glace at the other boys who are pretending that nothing odd just happened. I continue to sip on my drink and Steve is watching me like a wild animal. "Do you have something to say?" I blurt out. he doesn't answer. James smirks towards Michael. "You want me to finish this?" He nods a bit out of desperation. "Fine."I down the rest and as I was finishing it up I started to choke, My throat felt as if it were swelling. Michael stands and starts the heimlich on me as I choke. He finally gets me to breathe- though at the time I was confused as to why they were preforming the heimlich- it was liquid- there wasn't anything that was in my throat aside from the pop. Well that's what I thought until it fell onto the table where I could see what it was. It was a ring- for the slightest second I will admit that I was a bit confused. My head swung over to Steve- who was on a knee. "Peggy-" He began. "will you- ya know- marry me?" I was enraged. It was sweet and I wanted to- but not like this. I don't want a child to decide my fate in marraige. It's all the wrong reasons. "Steve? We talked about this-" It was no use. I gave up and I left. Michael called after me but I wasn't going to look back, because then I'd see Steve disapointed and I can't do that. James ran out for me and met me on the street. "Look Carter- I went along with this because it's what Steve wanted. He was man enough to ask your brother first but you can't be mature enough to give him a valid reason on why you won't? or hell- even listen to him- never mind Carter. It's no use, you don't think about anyone but yourself. You don't think Steve's worried about this too?" I try to chime in, but I am quickly shut down. "I'm not finished- He is about to make all of his dreams come true with the woman he loves and in your little world you're the only one effected by this, well look Peggy, you're not. In fact I'm a bit offended that you think Steve wants to marry you because you're pregnate. Again I'm just wasting my breath- actually one more thing Margaret," no one calls me margaret except my mother, he's pissed off. "You say no, and walk out- okay fine, that's between you and Steve, but you hurt that kid in there and I take that personally. You know the second you started walking away he started crying. He loves you and YOU, Margaret Carter made him cry." He goes up to the door and swings it open marching inside to comfort Steve, Michaels the next to come out. "I suppose you were in on this Michael?" He nods. "Thought you loved him Peggy." "I do, you know I do." "Then go tell him." He goes inside to meet up with James and leads him away, they walk outside to the Parking lot and leave Steve inside. I feel just awful. I come in and sit down next to him resting my hand on his lap for me to take, he does. His hands no longer feel clammy and his face wet from a blush to a blanch. I did this to him. "Steve?" "Why don't you want me Peggs?" He said looking down into his lap. It wasn't harsh- or rash- or even angry, he was being truthful and honstly though that he wasn't good enough. I'm at a loss for words and the only ones that can and do come out are, "You're not" "Really?" He said that dryly. "Steve, you are not good enough for me, you are not what I ever wanted in a husband, you are so much more, you are the one I look foward to growing old with, and if, and only if the offer is still on the table then I would be honored to be you wife, but I don't want to be your wife because of our situation, I love you. I had no one, and you danced with me." He beemed up and all colour returned to his face. "Ya mean that Peggy?" "Every word." He wrapped his arms around me and that was all settled, we had the ring cleaned up then heplaced in on my hand. Now I need to call and tell me mother that I am engaged. Steve is now happy, he is beyond glowing, though my battle with James is not over. We go back to the house and all go to bed. Steve is sleeping in my bed for now with me and James is on the other side of Steve hogging him. Though it's not the worst thing ever, Steve stays at least 20 degrees colder than Antartica.  
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Battle ready  
There's more pain to come. James received a notice in the post. He boards the Train in a week. The nightmares had come back.

**Author's Note:**

> let me know if i need to write more. It could take a bit to write but, that's okay. i love you all and you're amazing.


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